


Our Sleeves Were Wet With Tears (Volume I)

by margaret_helstone



Series: Our Sleeves Were Wet With Tears [1]
Category: Chihayafuru (Anime)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, Friendship Rebuilt, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, Post Season 3, Slow Burn, Taichihaya, and realising their own worth outside of the relationship, but really it is mostly about them learning to be friends again, especially for taichi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/margaret_helstone/pseuds/margaret_helstone
Summary: “They both knew that it wouldn't last, that, come tomorrow, the so undesired feeling of awkwardness would take over them again, to some degree at least. They would pass each other in the corridors and a nod and a smile would be all they might expect; they'd meet at the train station occasionally but fail to exchange more than a few words.And yet somehow, it was fine. Because for the first time since Taichi's confession, they could hope that the distance they had built was not that of resentment and sorrow, but of mutual respect and readiness to wait.It was an AGREEMENT.”A Taichihaya story set directly after the end of season 3. Based on the anime, not the manga.
Relationships: Ayase Chihaya & Mashima Taichi, Ayase Chihaya/Mashima Taichi
Series: Our Sleeves Were Wet With Tears [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922617
Comments: 17
Kudos: 39





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there, my dear friends!  
> I'm happy to present to you my very first Chihayafuru story - the very first story based on any anime, really. As you certainly read in the tags, this its focus is mostly on Taichihaya, however, I really hope I'll manage to bring the rest of the lovely characters into it and have them play a significant part. And even for the main two, I really do wish to focus on their friendship first and foremost, and only lead it to the next level when I feel they're both ready for it.
> 
> Now, a short DISCLAIMER:
> 
> The story is based entirely on the anime created by the Madhouse studio. I have NOT read the manga and I still don't know if I will - even if, I'll probably wait until this story is done, to avoid being influenced by the original content. With that said, I'd also like to ask you not to bring up the events from the manga in the comment section, at least not from the chapters that go beyond the end of the anime adaptation of it.
> 
> As for the posting schedule, I hope to keep the updates weekly, at least for the first 5 chapters. That will be the end of the first volume, after which I'll probably take a longer break when I work on the second, so you can get that next one regularly, too.
> 
> I hope I've given justice to the characters and the atmosphere of the original. I'll be most grateful if you share your thoughts on it with me, even if it's the shortest one!
> 
> Stay safe and amazing,  
> margaret helstone

_Suddenly, like an explosion, the words Taichi said to me in our first year came back to me._

_"Arata will come back someday for sure. Let's get stronger and wait for his return."_

Let's get stronger.

Let's wait.

No matter how long it might take or how hard it might be, let's _work_ , let's _fight_ , let's be _patient._

That's what Taichi had said, two years ago, as they’d sat on that train and gone home after their meeting with Arata, which only could have been called disastrous at the time. She'd had trouble believing him at first, so big her disappointment had been – so overwhelming the shock she'd felt when their childhood friend had as much as thrown them away from his house, despite all the effort they had put into coming there in the first place. And yet, she couldn't have disregarded his words completely, not with the sight of Arata riding his bike like a madman on the other side of the road and with the calm certainty echoing in Taichi's own voice.

It was his confidence that had made her regain her faith; his quiet presence and stubborn persistence that had prompted her to believe again, to follow the advice she surely would have disregarded if it had been nothing but words.

In a way, she was convinced that even if Arata hadn't shown up on his bike, or if she hadn't seen him for herself, it would have been enough to hear Taichi's comment to make her keep going.

After all, Taichi was never wrong.

She didn't always understand him – in fact, the last few months had shown her how little she did, how many things there were about him that she still couldn't comprehend, or things she had been too blind to notice. His confession to her a few weeks prior had been a blow, only made more painful by the following distancing that had led him all the way to giving up on karuta and their club.

The club they had built from scratch.

Had he really expected _her_ to stay after that?

Her eyes welled up again, as she stared at the photo Arata had sent her – sent them _both_ , she assumed, since it would have made no sense for him not to send it to Taichi as well. No matter how Arata felt about _her_ , or how all of the sudden her two dearest friends had become rivals in more fields than karuta, the fact remained that Arata and Taichi were still friends to one another.

Or at least, she desperately hoped they still thought of each other in those terms.

More tears came and ran swiftly down her cheeks, the bright screen of her phone doing nothing to make her eyes sting any less, but then again, she could hardly bring herself to care. Vaguely aware of the other students standing around her as well as the glances they were currently giving her, she kept looking at the device, at the bright smiles Arata and his new teammates were giving her. They were so glad, so hopeful, so extremely enthusiastic...

They were everything the Mizusawa team had been in the photo she'd sent after they'd qualified for the nationals for the first time, even though she was pretty sure that she'd been crying of happiness on that one.

 _He will come back someday for sure_.

The words came back to her again, once again proving that Taichi's guess hadn't been an incorrect one... Except this time, it was Arata's voice she was hearing and Taichi's name that was being pronounced. It was naive, foolish, even. For all she knew, Arata wasn't even aware that they had left their precious club and therefore, had no intention of going to Omi Jingu like he expected them to.

And yet... There was something about that message, or maybe about the way he looked in the photo that made her nearly certain that he _did_ know, and that this particular email was not sent out to brag. It was meant to remind them of something – to prompt them to take action, just like their visit in Fukui had prompted _him_ to do it before.

He _had_ come back. And so would Taichi, in due time.

And she would let him, without nagging him or pressuring him, without begging him to come back for her sake. Right now, they both needed time to heal; and time she would grant him.

Right after she talked to him one more time.

She was back on her feet in no time, and running towards the library as if her life depended on it. She burst through the door with a force that was as unfitting to the place as it was characteristic of herself, a perfect reverse of her abnormally quiet behaviour that week. She came over to her desk with no hesitation, no waver in her step, and took the bag she'd left there before leaving right after. She missed the amused look the Empress gave her, as well as the proud twinkle of recognition that sparkled in it.

Three minutes later she was out of the room, out of the school, racing towards the train station that was bound to take her to Taichi's home. She made it just in time, red and sweaty, and barely able to breathe, and yet, feeling more glad with herself that she had in the course of those miserable few weeks.

The satisfaction only made her push harder after she'd left the train – she had travelled that distance thousands of times by now and still, she was sure she had never covered it in such a short span.

She had no doubt that Taichi would have called her an idiot for straining herself so badly.

Smiling against the new lump that rose in her throat, Chihaya wiped away the tears that threatened to fall down from her lashes once more and took a deep breath, hoping that her eyes weren't as red as she was afraid they were. After all, the task she was about to commence was not an easy one; she didn't need her appearance to betray her inner state when she tried so hard to keep it concealed.

Especially as she still couldn't be sure who would answer the door this time.

Bracing herself, she took the final step and rang the bell, while simultaneously summoning all of her strength and will in order not to spin on her heel and run away at this most crucial point. She had been determined before, and that particular thing had not changed; however, the longer she waited on the steps of Taichi's house, the more she wondered why she was being made to wait in the first place.

If Taichi _was_ home... if he _knew_ it was her and decided to ignore it...

Well, that would have been enough to discourage the fiercest soul, while at the time, Chihaya couldn't feel anything but the opposite of that.

She was vulnerable and she knew it; and the more time had passed, the more afraid she became of how – and when – her weakness might take over her eventually.

Right when she was about to give in to her anxiety and run away for real, the door opened to reveal none other than Taichi's dauntless mother. The sight made Chihaya's head spin a little, but she pulled herself together quickly, for once feeling that her quest was more important than any of the glares or remarks she may receive in return.

Bowing low before her host, she choked out desperately, "Please forgive me for the interruption. I need to see Taichi. Is he at home?"

She knew it was not a perfect greeting and certainly not judging by Mrs. Pressure's sky-high standards. Still, she could not afford more; every word she pronounced made her come closer to breaking apart again, and the last thing she wanted was to make a spectacle of herself before any of the Mashima family members.

She supposed it was inevitable when she finally stood face to face with Taichi, but that was no reason to let herself crumble before that time.

"Taichi is at the cram school, preparing for his exams." Reiko's cold, impassive answer roused her from her musing. "He'll be going there regularly this year. Has he not told you that?"

"I-" Chihaya stuttered ineloquently, which obviously earned her another stern look from Taichi's mother. She shook her head and straightened up, intent on not bringing even more confusion into this already difficult conversation. "I suspected he might be doing that. I know how serious he is about medical school... But the last few weeks have been a little chaotic for us all, so we didn't get to talk much."

Reiko raised an eyebrow at her.

"Chaotic, you say?"

"Yeah – yes."

"And that's what you need to talk to him about?"

Chihaya felt her heart speed up – the feeling all the more unexpected as at the same time, she could swear her blood had run ice cold in her veins – however, she remained unmoved. Gathering her courage once again, she raised her gaze to look the other woman directly in the eye and replied, "It is. So if... If you could tell me when you expect Taichi to be back home, I will be most grateful."

She waited breathlessly, her whole body itching to flee. Taichi wasn't there; he wouldn't be there for some time, hence, there was literally no point of her staying any second longer than absolutely necessary. She didn't expect his mother to be particularly helpful, either, given the kind of attitude she had always displayed towards her...

...and yet, she stuck around anyway.

As long as Reiko didn't tell her to give it a rest and go home, she would not retreat. As long as there was the tiniest spark of hope to hold onto, she would not back down.

"I don't know that," she heard her answer at last. "He was supposed to return more than an hour ago, however, he called me to say that he would be staying longer. Apparently he has found his tutor to be extremely competent, so he wants to make the most of it before regular school work kicks in too hard. I asked him when he intended to return, but even Taichi couldn't tell me that. I would not expect him for another hour, however, maybe more... So I'm afraid you won't be able to see him at all today."

"I... I see," Chihaya stammered in response, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for telling me. I'll be on my way then. Have a good night, ma'am."

She bowed again and turned around at last, quiet and stunned, her whole posture slumping under that unwelcome new development. She shouldn't have been surprised – shouldn't have been upset. She _had_ assumed that Taichi might not be at home before she'd even reached his household, and the view of his mother opening the door for her had only confirmed her suspicions. The fact that Taichi had decided to stay at the cram school and study longer was hardly astonishing, either – she'd known him long enough to expect nothing less from him.

He could be the most ambitious, most stubborn person she'd come across, if only he chose to be – and, while her own ambitions made her hot-headed and inattentive, her greediness always making her spread herself too thin... Taichi could still remain organised and composed, setting up plans and following them despite the many obstacles that came in his way.

And given how determined he seemed to burn all of his bridges and cut all the ties now...

Focusing on the cram school seemed like the most obvious choice.

And yet, as unsurprising as it was, learning that particular bit of information still managed to leave her feeling empty, as if all hope, all expectations she had built up so far had been sucked out of her by the use of one simple statement. Up until the very last moment, Chihaya had hoped that she might still be able to speak to him that day – even if it meant wandering around the place for the next hour, waiting for Taichi to return, even if it meant going to her own home and then coming back after she received the news of him arriving.

Now, it was clear that neither was possible.

Behind her, she could hear the sound of a door closing. She had to bite her lip to stop it from trembling, but refused to show the signs of resignation that were slowly but surely taking over her. She told herself that it wasn't much of a deal; after all, she and Taichi still attended the same school so if she tried hard enough, she should be able to reach him without that much trouble. It would be difficult and awkward, what with all those people around them... But it wasn't impossible.

If they could reach Arata and get him to respond, then approaching Taichi surely had to be possible as well.

She was mere feet away from the pavement when she felt her phone buzz. It was more of a reflex than anything else, but she pulled it out anyway, not even bothering to guess who it was that was messaging her now. It could have been her mum, or Chitose, or maybe one of the karuta club members wanting to learn how she was faring – after all, just because she'd taken a break from the game and left the club didn't mean that they had stopped being her friends. It could have even been Arata, for all she cared, sharing more information about his own brand new team or asking about why she'd decided to leave hers...

Any other time, she would have had a million ideas as to who might have been the sender and responded enthusiastically to each and every one of them.

Right now, however, there was only one person from whom she wanted to hear.

Sadly, he was also the one person who sure as hell wouldn't have contacted her.

Only after turning the corner did she stop to look at the device in her hand, while silently praying that the message would not require her immediate response, and certainly not a lengthy or particularly eloquent one. She stopped short at the sight of an unfamiliar email address and the message that demanded no reply at all.

It was an address.

"But who would..." she whispered, bemused, her eyes once again glued to her phone screen and a message she'd had no reason to expect. Her question lingered in the air, unfinished as she reread the message, once, twice, three times. She knew the name of the street; the name of the institution mentioned also rang a bell, even if she couldn't quite put her finger on it yet. She nearly jumped when the device vibrated again, announcing the arrival of another message, and from the same person no less.

_**Taichi's cram school isn't far off from here, you should be fine going there on foot. I take it you can find your way there.** _

Chihaya's eyes were wide as she skimmed that most recent email, now more than ever astonished with what she was reading. Who could have sent her the address of Taichi's school and with a commentary so direct and – in a way – _casual_? And _now_ , after she had just talked to his mother and was sent on her merry way? Was it Rika, Taichi's little sister, who had overheard the conversation and decided to help her out behind her mother's back? They weren't exactly friends, if anything, Chihaya would have said that Rika's attitude towards her was just as haughty and belittling as that of Reiko... However, if not her, then _who_?

Surely, it couldn't have been...

"Mrs. Pressure?!" she cried abruptly, and so loudly that the passer-bys on the parallel streets could be seen startling at the noise. As for Chihaya, her brow rose even higher when she'd shifted her gaze back to the enigmatic email address which under closer inspection proved to be that of Mashima Reiko, indeed. The sudden turn of events made her head go dizzy, just like the sight of the aforementioned woman had just a few minutes earlier.

 _So she doesn't completely hate me..._ Chihaya thought, a weak but warm smile blossoming on her overly tired face. _Or at least, she doesn't think it would be harmful for me to see Taichi now, which on its own is a big thing. Or does she..._

_Does she realise how unhappy Taichi is right now and thinks I can help with that?_

"Or maybe she knows he hates me and wants me to find out for myself," she added under her breath, her lips curving in a grimace. "I can never tell what that woman really thinks."

She shook her head again, however, ashamed of the reaction she'd just displayed, and even dared to voice. Whatever her intentions were, the message Reiko had sent was a huge help, for which Chihaya decided to remain eternally grateful, regardless of how her talk with Taichi went in the end.

Plus, there was something about that email, something she couldn't point out but felt nonetheless, which seemed much more like a blessing than a trap to her.

Maybe she was being a naive airhead again, but that was what she chose to believe.

"Alright, it's time for action then!" she told herself and slapped her cheeks, this time bringing to herself the attention of those fellow human beings that were closer to her. Focused on her goal, she remained ignorant to their reactions and continued in the same manner, without a trace of hesitation in her, "If I get this right, Taichi is about twenty minutes on foot away from here. I can make it ten. I _will_ make it eight!"

She broke into a run right then and there, not even bothering to put her phone away, and not because she thought she might need to check the address again. She was already late; she couldn't afford a second more.

She'd already screwed up so badly: when Taichi had confessed his love to her and she couldn't have brought herself to answer him openly; when they still practised together but she was too overwhelmed to respond even to the tiniest of signals; when she'd missed the moment when he'd made up his mind about leaving the karuta club; when she had ran after him when she'd finally learnt that but instead of trying to help and understand _him_ , she'd once again focused on her own selfish needs and begged him not to leave _her_.

Day after day she'd gone on screwing up even _more_ , unable to find the right words she should speak to him, or maybe simply having been too much of a chicken to approach him with the ones she'd had in mind.

He'd called himself a coward, while the only one deserving of that name was her.

 _I won't screw up again_ , she repeated to herself in between her long strides. _I won't let my fears take the better of me. I'll get to you, Taichi, I'll find you and talk to you and make sure you hear every single word this time. So wait for me! Don't go home just yet, don't make me miss you again! I_ _ **will**_ _reach you this time!_

Her eyes were full of tears again, and not because of the wind and dust that blew in her face. She wiped them hastily, again and again, but it was of little use; and yet, while the dark smudges marked her cheeks, her smile grew wide, once again mirroring the hope that seemed to have left her. The faster she ran, the more tired she was, the greater and more positive the emotions that filled her heart became.

Taichi's words resonated in her mind but they were no longer a threat; somewhere along her feverish race they'd turned into a dare, a challenge she had to rise to. It wasn't going to be easy – she still couldn't give him the reaction he wished for, but she could at least face the truth of his feelings towards her and respond to that truth with a clear, honest answer.

He was her best friend in the entire world. And even if he still needed her to step away for a time, she refused to call it anything but a temporary change.

She was willing to give him space and freedom, if that was what he wanted from her – but she could not imagine a scenario in which she let their friendship end without putting up a fight first.

She wasn't capable of letting him go like this.

She was way too greedy for that.

And she cared for him too much.

 _"I love you,"_ he had said. _"I love the fingernails that you never grow. I love your fingers and your hair, and the mouth you open wide like an idiot. I love your face when you laugh. I love_ _ **you**_ _."_

He'd found so many ways to tell her the same, single truth, when he could have easily backed off. Taichi was clever, there was no way that he couldn't grasp her reaction from the very first moments of that stunned, hollow silence that had come over them because she couldn't have uttered a single word on her part. He'd _known_ that she would not respond in kind, that she would _not_ accept him, no matter how long he might have waited for her.

 _She_ knew their friendship meant the world to him, too, and so he'd had every reason to retreat and turn the tables again. If he had told her it was a joke – if he'd said that it was just a dumb prank and she was silly to take any of it seriously, _she would have believed him._

And yet, he hadn't. In fact, he'd done the opposite, pushing forward until it was all out in the open. Every feeling he'd suppressed, every ounce of affection he'd spent years hiding from her, it was there; even if it hadn't resonated fully in his words, it'd still been reflected in his body, his expression, in the way he'd looked at her. Those big, bright eyes so full of tenderness she'd never been allowed to see, or maybe simply had failed to recognise.

_"I love you, I love you, I love you."_

He had given himself up, made himself completely and entirely vulnerable. Hers to take, and hers to reject. He had offered her his heart, even though he must have known how slim his chances had been.

She had taken that heart and crushed it, and hadn't even had the guts to tell him why.

She arrived at the cram school, one full minute before her proclaimed eight. She stood there for a while, panting, gasping for air she couldn't well take because she kept choking on her sobs. Her hair was a mess, long locks sticking out in all directions while her face was smeared with the mixture of her tears and the dust that had accumulated on her cheeks when she'd dashed towards her destination, the result only made worse by her constant rubbing when she'd tried to wipe the tears away.

She sure was glad that she wasn't wearing any mascara that day – though on the other hand, she very much doubted that it would have changed much.

 _Focus_ , she chided herself, simultaneously reaching up to comb her hair with her fingers and contemplating whether or not she should bind it. _I'd say it doesn't matter how I look – I'm not here to make an impression, only to talk to him. But Taichi is perceptive... he will notice that something is wrong. And I don’t want him thinking about_ _ **me**_ _today._

She took a deep breath, then another. She straightened up and squared her shoulders, readying herself in the same way she had before ringing at the Mashima residence earlier on, her left hand still buried in the maze of fair strands, while she rummaged through her bag with her right. Somehow, she managed to find a – moderately – clean towel that could be used to clear up her face. She got to work right after, still unsure of how much time she actually had, yet determined not to waste a second.

She didn't have a mirror to look into and make sure that she was presentable enough. She was Ayase Chihaya, a pretty nitwit who never remembered to carry anything that girls like Chitose (her own sister) or Hanano (her surprisingly supportive friend) would have deemed indispensable in a young girl's bag.

A true beauty in vain who couldn't even make sure that she looked decent enough when it mattered.

She heard a noise coming from in front of her and raised her gaze instinctively. With her eyes fixed on the front door, she pricked up her ears, waiting for another sound to come and carry the information she was so eager to learn. Was it Taichi that had made the first one? Was it because he was close to the door, preparing to leave? Or was the sound a random one, and not an announcement of his departure? What _was_ the chance that it had been him that had made it?

She waited impatiently but no other noise came. She supposed it was to be expected – the one she'd heard before was probably caused by some incident, like someone walking into a trash can, so definitely not something people did every day. Besides, even if it _had_ been someone readying themselves to leave, what reasons did she have to think it would be Taichi she'd see come out?

It was foolish to expect him right after she'd got there.

Timing like that didn't happen in everyday life.

And yet, as if to refute her scepticism with a miracle that should not have been possible, the door was cracked open, and she saw Taichi standing in it. With one hand on the handle and one foot over the threshold, his body was still mostly turned to the inside of the building as he said his goodbyes to whoever was in charge. Posed like this, he obviously couldn't see her; but it was only a matter of seconds before he turned again and crossed the doorstep, and then he would have no choice but to face her.

For what seemed like a hundredth time that day, Chihaya felt her heart slow down so much that it seemed to have stopped beating at all, only to pick up its pace with double force a short moment later.

She wasn't ready to meet him and yet, all she prayed for was that _he_ wouldn't run away from her before she could tell him what she had come to say.

Lost in her pleading, she instinctively closed her eyes and thus missed the very moment she'd been so anxious to come upon. It was right after her eyelids closed and her head lowered in a small bow that Taichi _did_ turn around and saw her – and she was too busy clenching her fists and muttering wishes to witness it.

Too much of a mess to properly greet him.

She didn't see the shock that reflected on his countenance when he recognised her. His widened eyes and raised brow, the slight gap between his parted lips, the way his cheeks flushed against his knowledge and will – it was all lost on her, not because she didn't care but because she cared too much.

They stood like this for a while: he, unable to speak because of his astonishment and she, so determined not to miss her chance that she'd become unaware of the world around her. If Taichi had decided to walk past her, she wouldn't have noticed until he was a good few metres behind her.

She would have missed the chance the Heavens had granted her, and all because she was so afraid of that very thing happening.

And yet, the same Taichi who had done his best to ignore her at school – the same boy she'd expected to flee at the sight of her or at best, to say his 'hello' coolly and leave her behind right after – the same boy still stood at the top of the stairs that led to the building, eyeing her cautiously, unhurriedly, as if it was both the first and the last time he'd been given the chance to look at her like that.

His face showed a full range of emotions, from surprise to confusion, to anger, to eagerness, before he eventually managed to summon his trademark stoicism and successfully hide all of those feelings behind a mask of indifference he'd been forced to wear before her so many times before, for both their sakes.

Lost in her thoughts, Chihaya didn't see any of that.

"What are you doing here?" he asked. The simple question was enough to make her bubble pop and spatter into a thousand million drops, a soft, warm mist that now fell down around her. "Shouldn't you still be at school, studying? Or I don't know, at _home_?"

Unlike the burning feelings swirling inside her, Taichi's words were cold, icy even. His tone bore no emotion and his face was, yet again, an inscrutable mask, one that she'd come to hate so fiercely, because she now knew how much was hidden underneath.

_"Why, Taichi? Why do you do everything alone?"_

_Why don't you trust us?_

_Why don't you trust_ _**me** _ _?_

He hadn't trusted her before – how could she expect him to trust her _now_?

"I couldn't focus in the library," she replied, a little too fervently, just like she always did. "I tried for hours, but I wasn't learning anything."

Taichi turned his head away, huffing. "Nothing new there. But that hardly explains why you are _here_."

"You weren't at home. Your mum gave me this address."

"And why were you at _my_ home of all places?" he asked again, his aloofness fading away a little in favour of genuine curiosity, although it was clear that he still wanted to keep up some of his walls standing. "You haven't been there in ages, it's not like you've had a chance to leave something behind and had to pick it up. And no offence, but hell will freeze over before my mother invites you for a chitchat."

"I wasn't there to see your mum," Chihaya answered him. Her gaze was still locked with his and her chin was raised high, as if she'd wanted to prove that his frigid responses weren't enough to intimidate her... but her voice was quiet and certainly not as firm as she would've liked it to be. Still, she kept going. "I came to see _you_. And you weren't there."

"But why?" Taichi wouldn't give up. "Why didn't you just look for me at school today? Or, if it was more recent, why not tomorrow? Gosh, Chihaya, you could have _called_ me..."

"Don't you act as if it was so easy to catch you between classes," she replied with annoyance, her usual fire kicking in again. "I barely see you at all. And it's not something I want to talk about on the phone, either."

Silence fell over them again, Chihaya's words still echoing between them. She was looking at Taichi now, and so this time, she could see the change in his features perfectly. The alterations weren't big: a slightly more focused gaze, the most insignificant narrowing of his eyes, the fingers that twitched as if they'd been about to curl into fists but were stopped violently at the very last moment.

Her own vision had never been anywhere near as good as her hearing; she wasn't the most observant person, either. In fact, most of the time, she was downright _oblivious..._

And yet, she hadn't missed any of his microexpressions this time.

"Stupid," he said eventually, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his trousers and fixing his eyes on the ground before him. "What could you possibly have to say that I need to hear in person?"

And there it was, the susceptibility he'd been trying so hard to conceal but failed to do so in the end, not because he hadn't worked hard enough but because Chihaya's senses made it impossible for her to fall for any pretence on his part. It wasn't _just_ her hearing, or _just_ the fact that she'd known him for years, or even that she was more concentrated now than she had been in the toughest, most demanding of matches – but the combination of all those, additionally supported by her own enhanced sensitivity, that had made it possible for her to see through his defences more clearly than when he had taken them down for her himself.

She did it against his will and against his wishes, and somehow, it worked miraculously.

"You're not a coward!" she exclaimed with as much passion as she could muster, loudly, confidently, despite the tears that were once again gathering in back of her eyes and the tightening of her throat that she couldn't have prevented. "You said you wanted to become someone who _isn't_ one, but that would mean that you are a coward now, and must change to achieve that. And I refuse to believe that!"

She inhaled sharply and blinked in order to keep the annoying, salty drops from falling down too soon. Her golden irises shone with tears and zeal alike; captivated by the vision, Taichi failed to use his only chance to interrupt her speech this time.

"You're not a coward," she repeated, with the same tenacity ringing in her tone. "Even if that's what you think you are, or what you _were_ back then... It doesn't matter anymore. It's all in the past, Taichi, because _you have already changed_. Without even realising it, you've grown, so much that sometimes I catch myself not recognising you, regardless of how long we've known one another. Just those last two years we spent together prove beyond doubt that you couldn't be further from giving in to your fears and giving _up_ , which is _exactly_ what cowards do. You're ambitious and determined, and you don't let failures get in your way.

"And if you still think this isn't enough," she picked up after another short pause. "If you still need evidence greater than that... Then know that telling me about what happened when we were in sixth grade – telling me about what _really_ happened to Arata's glasses, and after all these years... _That_ is the greatest sign of courage to me."

She didn't say anything else, letting her words reverberate, not expecting to receive an answer to her ardent, most heartfelt speech, but leaving it for Taichi to discern and interpret for himself. She hadn't come here to argue with him, after all. The subject was still too sore for them both and besides, she knew that no discussion could do them any good.

She'd come to meet him to tell him this one specific thing, because something in her had told her that it was important and that Taichi should be allowed to see it as well. It was the one burden she could lift from his shoulders and therefore, she _had to_. She knew that compared to all the misery she'd caused him, it was not even a beginning of repayment... however, she had to do _something_.

She wasn't going to do more, though. She wasn't wanted here anymore, she wasn't _needed_. She'd fulfilled her quest and was not eager to cross the boundaries again.

Slowly, attentively, she bowed her head and cast down her eyes, a silent 'goodbye' that was better left unsaid.

Then she turned and walked away towards the gate.

It took all of her strength not to break into a sprint again.

  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Taichi's gaze was filled with astonishment once more as he listened to Chihaya's nearly aggressive ramble, unable to wrap his head around the situation he'd found himself in so unexpectedly. He heard the words and thought that he understood the substance – he knew what Chihaya was referring to and comprehended the meaning behind her words. And yet... Something about this whole scene was just too bizarre, too unrealistic for him to believe that it was happening for real.

Too strange to have him take it for more than yet another of his feverish dreams.

Had she really gone to his house so spontaneously, after he had as much as ignored her for the past few weeks? Had she really risked meeting eye to eye with his mother, when it was obvious how uneasy the latter had always made her feel? And _why_ had she decided to come see him now, so long after their fateful conversation in the club room and with so much happening since that dreadful afternoon?

Was it in any way connected – or worse, prompted – by the photo Arata had undoubtedly sent her as well?

And if so, _what_ was the connection?

It wasn't like the message had contained any special words or wisdom, or even anything particularly nostalgic. It was a simple photo of Arata and his teammates, with a simple greeting meant to encourage them to do their best on their part so that they might meet at the Nationals this time. It was very much like the one he and Chihaya had sent him during their first year... but that was as far as the nostalgia went.

Of course, it was possible that Arata had sent Chihaya a different email, with more than just the few words he, Taichi, had received. After all, he knew for certain that Arata had spoken to her after the Master qualifiers and since that conversation had clearly taken its toll on Chihaya, it wasn't difficult to determine what he had said. He was also aware of the advantage Arata had always had over him and that Chihaya _did_ favour him, even if she didn't fully realise it herself...

...and still, he couldn't help but think that it was not the case this time.

It was the similarity of it to the message they had sent him that made him so sure. It was not a taunt meant at him, or another display of affection addressed to Chihaya and only shared with him for propriety's sake. There was a much simpler, and much more genuine intention hidden behind it: an honest wish to inspire his friends in the same way they had inspired him before, mixed perhaps with the pride he must have felt for both himself and his new charges.

One friend reaching out to the other ones.

_Friends_.

Taichi's jaw tightened, his soul filling up with disgust and shame.

Had he really forgotten that that was what the three of them were, first and foremost? _Friends_?

Or was he just too tired pretending that he was all right with such a setup, because deep down, he realised that even as a trio, they had never been entirely equal?

Was he too much of an egoist to accept that?

"What the heck does that even mean?" he said out loud at last, letting out a hollow, mirthless chuckle that resembled a snort more than anything else. Chihaya had already managed to reach the front gate and was just about to step onto the pavement before it but now, she stopped mid-stride; if he had waited a few seconds more – or if she hadn't held back from running like she obviously had – his words wouldn't have reached her. He almost expected them not to anyway, despite her still being relatively close.

They did, however.

In for a penny, in for a pound. He had no choice but to go for it now.

"Why do you think I needed to hear that now?" he continued, careful to maintain the air of indifference or maybe even, irritation, while Chihaya slowly turned around. "I didn't say I was a coward, just that I didn't want to be one. And of course I've changed since primary school; I'm not some Peter Pan who never grows up."

He could feel her stare at him, but refused to meet her gaze this time, all too aware of the effect it had always had on him. Feigning nonchalance, he adjusted the strap of his bag, hung over his shoulder and set off, descending the stairs one by one, as if he hadn't wished to get out of there just as much as Chihaya did.

The very sight of her was aggravating to him.

He knew it wasn't fair, that it really wasn't her fault that she could not respond to his feelings in kind. She had never led him on or pretended to care for him when she hadn't. She _did_ care, she always had, and in a way, Taichi felt like an ungrateful scoundrel every time he remembered everything she'd done for him so far, never mind if it was a small smile meant to comfort him or a crazy, complex, completely over-the-top karuta tournament organised specifically in order to celebrate his birthday with him, in the most Chihaya-like way he could think of.

She wasn't the one to blame for all this.

And yet, every time he saw her, the memory of his stupid, impossible dreams came rushing back to him, always accompanied by the one of them being crushed to bits just a few short weeks prior.

It wasn't her fault, and still, he couldn't find it in himself to forgive her.

Still, in the corner of his eye, Taichi saw the expectancy painted all over her face, the same perfect mixture of perseverance and dread he'd had a chance to observe more than once now. He went right past her, resolved not to grace her with a single glance, no matter how rude or cruel it might seem, and stepped onto the pavement she hadn't managed to reach in time.

He was indifferent.

He _wished_ to be indifferent.

So why did he still listen closely, awaiting her to make the move, to turn and look after him, to catch up with him and shower – no, _bombard_ – him with another set of half-baked wisdoms and untimely arguments? Why had he slowed down, anxious, restless, apprehensive, aching to hear her say another word, no matter how absurd it might be?

He had been so good at avoiding her lately, at numbing the overwhelming feeling of solitude by simply making sure she did not come into view – so why did he feel like he was missing her already?

Was a fleeting encounter like this all it took to make all of his endeavours worthless?

He was hopeless.

_Hopeless_.

Just like all of his love for her had been.

Oh, screw it.

"There's a playground nearby, if there's anything else you want to talk about," he offered, the pathetic, self-disrespectful moron that he was. "I doubt there would be any kids there at this hour, and there are actual benches to sit on. Or I can just walk you home if that's what you prefer."

He set off right after, no longer knowing if he wanted her to respond or not. A part of him hoped that she would, that there was more she wanted to say than that random, abstract proclamation she had surprised him with – that there was more thought behind it than she had made it appear at first. Simultaneously, his other half (a third? a quarter? a mere, pitiful percent?) screamed at him to pick up his pace and leave that cursed place before Chihaya could even answer, to run away and pray that the consequences of his stupid decision from the previous minute would not catch up to him.

Torn like this, he walked on, the rationality of his mind battling with the naiveté of his heart and the ardour of his soul. Step by step, he moved forward, hearing nothing but the sound of his blood pumping in his ears and his own sharp, uneven breathing. If he focused hard enough, he could distinguish his own, weary step, but even that seemed to come from a distance much wider than the one hundred and seventy centimetres separating his feet from his ears.

No matter how hard he tried, he could not hear anything from behind him.

So she hadn't followed him.

_Of course she hadn't, you idiot_ , he berated himself silently, clenching his hands into fists and jamming them even deeper into his pockets. _She looked like she wanted to get away from there as soon as she could, and only forced herself to stay and talk because she thought it was the right thing to do. She didn’t come to chat, to pour her heart out or to clear things up with me, mostly because there's nothing to clear up in the first place; she came because she felt she needed to, because at some point, she'd decided that it was something a good person would do and obviously, she decided to spontaneously follow the wacky idea her mind had presented to her. A totally spur-of-a-moment kind of decision, honest but rash, misguided and ill-conceived, just like about everything Chihaya does._

He felt his heart shrink, as if it was squeezed in quite a literal sense, and yet, he refused to admit to his hurt, even if only to himself. There was no reason why he should've felt surprised, no excuse for the disappointment that was threatening to take over him. He'd known _her_ ; he knew what kind of person she was. Bright, outgoing, sincere. Blunt to a fault and so very, very caring that it made his head ache at times.

Still, her consideration was just like her entire self: impulsive. She always went all out and never put much reflection behind it.

As for Taichi, he still couldn't quite determine whether he found it frustrating or just very, very endearing.

Perhaps it was a mixture of the two.

The fact remained, however: the only way he could find his way to her thoughts was through incidents like this. After all, he could hardly imagine Chihaya spending her nights lying awake in her bed, unable to stop thinking of him.

Certainly not in the way he thought of her.

He fought the urge to kick the pebbles under his feet, regardless of the fact that there was no one around to see him if he had, much less to care about it. The street he strolled was empty, and since it was getting late, there was no reason to believe that the state of things should change. However, Taichi knew better than to indulge himself with his whims, no matter how insignificant they appeared to be. He'd been raised to be that way; and no matter how much he wanted to change, no matter how grand was the amount of effort he put into achieving it, there were things about himself he simply couldn't reform.

He couldn't tell if it were those traits that had made him the unlucky loser he undoubtedly was now; but at least they helped him cope with the fallout his misfortunes had brought.

Which was exactly why he needed to stop wallowing in self-pity and focus on getting on with his own life instead, just like he'd been striving to do recently. He'd done a pretty good job so far, studying harder than ever both for his regular classes and the cram school, fooling everyone that it was his exams that had made him quit the karuta club.

Good gosh, he'd actually let Master Suo persuade him into _not_ giving up on karuta after all, and only changing the environment of his practice instead.

He was fine, or at least, he was going to be.

The recollection of his latest, little successes made his faith grow a little, bringing back that tiny bit of optimism he'd been looking for so desperately. His chin rose a little while his pace turned brisker...

...only to have him halt in surprise at the sound of a dull thud and a hiss that came from behind him.

Taichi turned around almost involuntarily, completely taken aback and therefore totally incapable of forming even the vaguest expectation of what he was about to see. Had he had more time to think about it, he probably would have come with more than a few reasonable explanations of the sound.

For one, it could have been an ordinary jogger, whom he couldn't have seen when he'd exited through the cram school's gate, but who'd caught up to him silently while he was occupied with his own thoughts afterwards, and who now tripped over something and now was groaning in pain. It might have been a passer-by who'd emerged from around the corner, carrying an object so heavy that they had eventually dropped it on the ground.

For all he knew, it might have been a kid running from his friends in another round of tag. Out of all people, he surely was aware how fast little children could move; how quickly and unexpectedly they might invade other people's space.

All of these he could have thought of, and yet, he still wouldn't have guessed the real cause of the noise that had startled him so.

Of course, the culprit simply had to be the one person he'd been trying to ban from his mind.

_How_ had she even got there without him realising her presence until now?

And yet, it was her, undoubtedly, undeniably her. Ayase Chihaya, the love of his life and the greatest, most unpredictable dork of a friend, now hunched and squatting, with one knee rested against the hard concrete surface while she eyed her other one attentively, instinctively pressing her scratched fingers against the more severely injured skin on her leg. With the few metres separating them (and his still fresh bemusement) Taichi needed a moment to fully absorb the scene before him, as well as its less obvious details. Despite the initial falter, his instincts soon took over him, however, and pushed him towards the wounded girl, before he could even see the grimace on her face or observe the way in which she chewed on her lower lip.

In no time was he kneeling down before her, pulling her hands away from the wound by her wrists so that she wouldn't accidentally infect the cut with one hand, while he rummaged through his hastily unzipped bag with the other one, searching for the towel and a water bottle he was sure he'd packed in there earlier.

"Taichi, no! Wait!" He heard her protest against his actions, only to ignore it completely. "It's just a scratch, nothing serious, I can handle it myself just fine here!"

"Like hell you can," he muttered in response after he'd finally found the objects he'd been looking for. "You've just pressed your dirty hands against a fresh wound, you idiot. I don't even want to know what you were planning to do next."

"No, but -"

"Just do me a favour and _don't_ press them like that again now, will you?" he cut her off sternly. "I can't exactly hold your hands and dampen the towel at the same time, I'd need at least one other pair of arms for that. So stop arguing and keep your dusty fingers away for just a second, while I do my job over here."

Chihaya opened her mouth to argue with him some more but shut it right after under his severe glare and bowed her head obediently instead. Seeing that her opposition would not last – or at least, that her revolt would not rise again for a while – Taichi let go of her wrists and focused on wetting the fabric in his hands, before applying the now cold towel to Chihaya's injured knee. She winced under his touch, her head jerking up once more and her eyes glued to his intent countenance.

He saw her movement in the corner of his eye, felt the shudder that jolted all of her body, however, he refused to look up himself, instead making sure that his own gaze remained plastered to the cut he was supposed to be taking care of.

Not that clearing up the skin on her leg was doing any good to his sanity, mind you.

"How on earth did you even do that?" he muttered the question under his breath, if only to make his attention shift to something else, desperately hoping it would be enough to drown out his rebellious thoughts for a short while at least. "There's literally nothing you could have stumbled upon and you don't usually go tripping over your own feet; I know you can be careless sometimes, but you're not a klutz."

"I just wasn't paying attention," Chihaya answered him, her tone slightly offended, but still quieter than he might have expected. "My shoelaces had come undone and I stepped over one."

Taichi sighed, almost impatiently.

"And fell like this? What were you doing, trying to break the world speed record?"

"I tripped! Why does it matter how I fell afterwards?"

"Because I've seen you trip about a hundred thousand times since we first met and it was _always_ due to some crazy stunts you were doing and _never_ because you were simply distracted," he continued to parry her arguments; with every second it became more difficult for him to maintain his grumpy, cool attitude and not let his lips curl into an amused smile at both her behaviour and the memories he'd just recalled himself. "You were constantly running around, jumping over fences and climbing trees and half the time your shoelaces weren't tied, and yet you hardly ever let that get in your way. And now you want me to believe that you've hit the ground with your knee and _cut it_ because you'd stumbled over it? When you were walking?"

"I don't know why you find that so improbable," she replied, shifting her eyes up at him for a second only to have them cast down a moment later. Unlike her most recent retort, this one was once again quiet, so much so that it was almost a whisper.

_"I never thought Chihaya was capable of speaking quietly enough to be drowned out by a bell."_

Was that it? Was that how she was now?

Was _he_ responsible for that change in her?

He shook his head resolutely and lowered his own gaze onto her knee once more. He realised he was giving in to his nonsensical fears again, finding alterations where there were none, simply because he'd felt the change so acutely. Sure, Chihaya's voice was much softer than what he was used to; but to think that it was a general transformation was a little too much. It wasn't like she _couldn't_ speak loudly or even downright _shout_ at him – she had proven that much with the entire 'you're not a coward' scene, and even with the little comebacks she had thrown at him a short while earlier.

She wasn't mad at him, she hadn't taken offence. She wasn't _avoiding_ him like he had avoided her, nor was she trying to daunt him with her curt, frosty answers; if anything, she'd given him the impression that she wished to talk to him but had no idea how to do it without overstepping his boundaries.

As if she had been afraid of him.

Was she?

Taichi risked another glance at her and saw that she still wasn't looking at him or even at the wound he'd been treating for her. Instead, her gaze was turned to her right, focused on some distant spot he couldn't name unless he followed her gaze with his own eyes. Afraid she might catch him staring, he looked down again quickly, however; he could figure out what had arrested her attention later on.

He had enough to think about as it was, without adding any additional information to the mix.

"There, it's all clean," he announced after a moment, taking the wet towel in his hand away; he pressed it back to her knee almost immediately when he saw that the seemingly unserious injury hadn't stopped bleeding. "It looks like it's a pretty deep cut you've got there. Nothing that would need stitches, but you certainly should have it wrapped up, and not only because of the possible infections. That is, unless you actually want to walk around Tokyo with bloody streaks all over your calves. I don't have anything of the sort so-"

"I do!" she cut him off, energetic again. Taichi raised an eyebrow at her sudden cry and she turned away, blushing. However, she continued, "I do. Just hand me my bag, please?"

He did as he was told, and passed on the bag that had somehow ended lying behind him. Chihaya grabbed the item zealously and began to search its insides, flipping the books and other tools she kept in it with as much hurry as if her life really had depended on it. Taichi regarded her curiously, suddenly indifferent to whether she decided to meet his eye this time.

It took her a good while before she found what she'd been looking for; it was a perfect opportunity for him to have a closer look at her at last.

No matter how silly his behaviour was, Taichi made good use of that time.

She was a mess; there was no doubt about that. No longer panting like she had when he'd seen her first (something Chihaya had been trying very hard to conceal and perhaps even thought that she'd succeeded, only Taichi obviously knew better), she still seemed to be anything but calm or relaxed. Her hair looked as if she had combed them with her hands (which she'd done often enough in the past to make his guess more than likely) and her cheeks were grey from the dust, though again, it looked like she _had_ attempted to clean it in some amateurish way.

He wondered if the slightly darker traces he saw on her cheeks really might have been a remnant of her tears, like he feared they were.

Gosh, she really cried too damn much, never mind how serious the reasons were.

He was roused from his meditation when Chihaya finally pulled out the small first aid kit which she'd been looking so frantically for and straightened up a little, relieved. She sure was glad with herself, a softer, more placid expression finally reflecting on her face as she opened it and drew the bandage and gauze packs she needed from it, and even waved them before his eyes as if to tell him that she could take care of herself now.

That darn moron.

"I can deal with it now," she said, confirming his suspicions. "If you just take the towel away from my knee I can wrap it up just fine. But you really have to move away."

"And how do you plan to do that with your leg bent like this?" he asked, simultaneously ignoring her suggestion completely. "You're still kneeling."

"I can straighten my leg anytime, so-"

"And lie it flat on the ground? Good luck moving your hand underneath when you try to go around it. Also, are you really carrying a first aid kit in your school bag?"

It was the first time Chihaya met his eye since her unfortunate fall and boy, was she vexed. "My mum made me carry one around after I stepped onto a nail and had to block the blood flow with my classmate's spare t-shirt in middle-school. She wasn't very happy with that."

"Your mum or the classmate?"

"Neither. But at least I learnt to carry these things around, and since I _know_ how to use them, I'm going to wrap my own injury now. I just need to stand up and-"

Without a word of warning, she leaned on one arm and pushed herself off the ground, leaving the startled Taichi to stare at her helplessly. She hissed at the pain when she put more pressure on her wounded leg but said nothing, determined to carry out the plan she had formed in her head without letting her friend interrupt.

Only, his hand was still pressed against her knee... and he wasn’t going to do anything to change that.

"You're impossible," he told her instead, the faintest shadow of mirth flashing in his eyes.

"Move your hands, Taichi, I'm bandaging my knee," she ordered him, feigning deafness.

"You'd need to dry your skin first."

"I know that!"

"Not what I heard."

"I am, but I still need you to move away. Why aren't you moving away?"

"Who knows." Taichi shrugged, raising his eyes so he could meet Chihaya's weary glare. "Maybe I'm just being awful for the fun of it. Or maybe as usual, I'm the sensible one here and realise that you're gonna need help with that stupid cut. And since the only way to make you give up is by this kind of opposition, it's exactly what I'm doing now."

Chihaya's fingers tightened around the packages. "But why?"

"Who knows," he said once again. "Perhaps I'm just too used to looking after you to simply walk away and leave you to deal with it on your own. After all, I know you well enough to realise how incompetent you are."

That little jab at the end of his reply was meant to lighten the mood, to avoid a situation in which his earlier words would sound like yet another confession on his part. He wanted to make sure it didn't sound _tender_ – that the 'looking after you' part was a statement coming from a long time buddy rather than from the love interest he so wished to be, from an easygoing, disinterested comrade and not a suitor she was so afraid of.

He wanted to turn it into a joke, and yet, it only took a second for him to realise that his tactics hadn't worked.

She didn't answer him; didn't snap or turn away, didn't huff, offended by his remark – but she didn't laugh, either. He saw her knuckles turn white as her grasp tightened even more and opened his mouth to apologise...

...but then she straightened her arms, shoving the bandages right before his eyes, while she looked away from him, again.

She nearly hit him on the nose and yet, he was too stunned to care.

"You do it then," he heard her mutter under her breath as she moved the package even closer to him. "Just... be quick about it. It doesn't need to be that precise, I only need it to last until I'm home."

He wanted to contradict her, to say that the main reason why he'd insisted on helping her out was to make sure that the dressing around her wound would not be a shoddy one; but something stopped him. Whether it was the way in which she was so determined not to meet his eye again or how her hands trembled when he finally took the cursed bandages from her, he couldn't tell; but he couldn't be more sure if Chihaya had told him that directly.

His jokes hadn't been too terrible a strategy overall – one more challenge, however, and he could lose it all.

So he remained silent, attentively drying her skin with fresh gauze before pressing another piece against the injury and wrapping it up with utmost care. It didn't matter that it was _her_ bare skin anymore, or that the rim of her skirt was moving gently right above his bowed forehead. He was a friend, a companion. He was willing to call himself a nurse, for goodness' sake – as long as what he did was of any benefit to her.

Now wasn't he a failure.

_Bet someone else, someone like Sudo, would never let anything like that happen,_ he thought to himself. _He probably would have left her at that gate and walked away without a word, unless it was to roast her with one of his terrible lines. Actually, I'm sure_ **_nobody_ ** _I know would've acted as stupidly as I have, whether it would be Nishida or Komano, or – Arata..._

"All done," he announced a little too hastily, deliberately breaking his own train of thought before it could take him too far, and stood up. "I hope it's not too tight, but if it is, just tell me and I'll fix it. We don't want your leg to go all stiff and blue while you walk back home, right?"

"No, it's good. It's perfect," she answered, shaking her head. "Thank you."

Her head and gaze were still lowered when she spoke to him, so Taichi couldn't quite tell what her expression was and use that knowledge to guess how she actually felt. At first, he was sure she would turn away as soon as he was done treating her wound, and just set off towards home without further delay, or that she would at least step back, no longer needing to stay in his close proximity like she had before.

They really _were_ standing quite close now, so close that one step forward would make her forehead rest against his collarbone, literally.

And yet, she still didn’t allow him to see her face. He waited patiently for another moment, even though his heart was threatening to jump out of his chest any moment now. He stuck around, motionless and quiet, giving her every chance to flee like he expected her to, awaiting the moment when she would leave his personal space.

He couldn't imagine her wanting to be there, not after how he had treated her today – how he'd been treating her ever since the day she had rejected him.

And yet, she was still there.

"Chihaya," he whispered eventually. "Do you want to talk?"

It was a simple question, an obvious question. It was a ridiculous one, too – after all, they'd been exchanging statements back and forth, so technically, it was way past time for asking it. However, he certainly knew that it was not a simple chat he'd had in mind; and maybe it was naive of him, but he still believed that Chihaya understood it, too.

She didn't answer him immediately, and not even after some time had passed. It wasn't because she hadn't heard him, of that he was sure... but that didn't mean that he had more than the vaguest idea of why she tarried, either.

Was his question not so simple after all?

He didn't dare to lean forward, on the off chance that she would decide to look up at him after all, in which case their closeness really might become too much for him. His eyes remained fixed on her, however, boring into her hair as if to jinx her into replying at last. She didn't move; she didn't look up.

And for the longest time, she didn't make a sound.

Until...

"Yes. Yes, I do."


	3. Chapter 3

“Yes. Yes, I do.”

He could barely hear her voice, so weak and unsure it was. And yet, there wasn't any real hesitation in it – as if she'd been sure about her own wish but not at all confident as to whether she should voice it, whether it was alright for her to admit what that wish was.

Taichi didn't know if he wanted to crush her in an embrace and apologise for making her feel anything of the sort or kick his own bottom for causing that, first.

It had never been her fault.

No.

It was _his_.

"Come on, then," he replied simply, stepping aside and reaching for both of their bags, hanging them over his shoulders as if it was the most natural thing for him to do. Chihaya didn't react to his actions in any way, but he was no longer surprised by that. She was clearly not herself, lost and confused, bouncing from one emotion to the other, regardless of how contradictory they might have seemed.

He could hardly expect her to flinch or move just because he suddenly wasn't standing next to her.

He shifted his gaze back to her and saw that she was, once again, turned to her right and staring into the distance, presumably focused on the same spot she'd been looking at before. No longer having to choose his priorities, Taichi allowed himself to follow her gaze this time, curious to see what it was that had managed to catch her attention not once, but twice... To determine whether it really was something worthy of paying attention to or if it was just the fact that it was in the opposite direction to where _he_ was.

He was surprised to see that the object she'd been looking at was no less than the playground he himself had mentioned right before he'd stepped through that wretched gate.

Heck, she really had good instincts.

"Looks like you've found a perfect place to make that fall," he said cheerfully, though he still made sure that his tone was gentle. "This is the place I told you about earlier. Seems like I was right, too. About no children around, I mean."

Chihaya nodded in confirmation, her eyes still fixed on the small yard. Then she turned around, sharply, unexpectedly – and winced, seeing the bags in Taichi's hands.

She reached out for hers immediately, but he raised his arm to stop her.

"It's fine, Chihaya, I've got this. Let's just go."

He set off towards the entrance to the playground, about a dozen metres away. He didn't wait for her, didn't insist that she should walk by his side and not behind him; if she had followed him before, there was no reason to think that she wouldn't follow him now.

And the one thing Taichi had no doubts about at all was that she sure needed her space today.

They reached the yard in no time and soon were looking for a bench they might sit on. Taichi made sure that the one they chose wasn't placed directly next to the street, but at the same time, he certainly didn't wish to settle down in some distant, secret spot on the other side of the playground, and not only because it would be foolish to make Chihaya walk any more than she had to. They wanted _some_ privacy; they didn't need absolute seclusion.

He still didn't trust himself enough to stay with her like that.

So he looked around and soon he found a seat that was perfect for their needs. It was close enough to where they stood not to make their stroll towards it seem like a strain, but far enough not to make them feel like they were sitting by the pavement they had just left behind. Without asking Chihaya's opinion, Taichi began to walk towards it, with nothing but a nod to indicate his intentions.

She didn't need a decade of friendship between them to understand that clue.

He glanced back at her a few times, both before and after reaching the bench and couldn't help but notice that her attitude had changed. It wasn't much; just a simple fact that her eyes were no longer cast down, but instead searching the environment around her, as if she'd been trying to determine something, though he couldn't for the life of him tell what it was exactly she was pondering about. She looked calm, on the outside at least. Like... like she was too preoccupied with her thoughts to think of all the distressful issues that had been bothering her so far.

She joined him next to the bank just a few seconds after he'd arrived at it himself, her gaze still scanning every bit of the yard she could view from where she stood. Her arms were folded now; her fingers tightened around the fabric of her shirt as she rumpled it unconsciously, completely unaware of the damage she was doing.

Just as he had thought, she was too lost in thought to care.

"You’d better sit down, you don't want to harm that leg any further," he said evenly, putting both of their bags in the very middle of the bench. "I know you don't think it's serious and you're probably right; still, it's no reason to overstrain yourself when there's no need for that."

Chihaya turned towards him then, though her gaze still wasn't fully focused. "It's just a cut, Taichi, not a broken bone. It doesn't matter if I stand on it or not."

"So it's not hurting, huh?"

"It won't hurt less if I sit down, that's all I'm saying."

She did sit down, however, and without any more prompting on his part. Taichi smiled weakly, his expression a mixture of contentment and relief, and took his seat next to her – or better said, next to the bags he'd so cleverly put in between them.

Perhaps he should have thought it through more carefully.

"I really hope it will heal quickly," he offered, randomly shifting his attention back to the conversation at hand. "You've injured that knee quite severely, given the circumstances. I'm still having trouble understanding how you even managed it."

She shrugged. "I must've fallen on a pebble or something. Anyway, I'll just need to wear the bandages for a little while until it's back to normal. It's not like I'm entering any beauty contests in the near future, so I don't really care how long it takes to heal."

Taichi gave her a curious glance. "It probably won't be very comfortable to kneel on the tatami with it, though. You might want to think of a cushion or something – Doctor Harada has been using those for years, it can't be much of an obstacle. And it would only be for a short while for you."

"That won't be necessary," she cut him off, her head bowing a little lower again. "I mean, the cushion. I won't be needing it. I'll be fine."

"The mat is pretty rough though, if you rest your knee against it, even wrapped up it will get-"

"Taichi," she interrupted him again. "That won't be a problem. I promise."

He didn't contradict her again, in spite of how little he understood her protest. And so they sat together for a while, wrapped up in an awkward silence, neither of them knowing when or how to pick up the conversation again. There was so much to talk about, and yet, each and every subject appeared to be banned, as they all led back to the moment they had last talked openly.

On one hand, Taichi wanted nothing more than to throw himself into it, without hesitation, without second thoughts, ready to risk the last bit of sanity he had left, if only that meant learning what was really going on in Chihaya's mind and heart at last. To finally hear her answer in full, with all the excuses and explanation she might provide, with her telling him what exactly his confession had meant to her – to see for himself if it had left any other trace than the cursed abashment and confusion she displayed every time they as much as passed each other by at school.

On the other, he was terrified by the very idea of what she might say to him if she decided to open up in this way.

At some point, she let go of her crumbled shirt and straightened her arms, choosing to tighten her fingers around the edge of the bench instead. Yet again, Taichi found himself watching her, mesmerised by the sight of her focused, composed expression that at the same time left no doubt about how busy her mind was.

Just what was she thinking about so intensely?

"It's here, isn't?" she asked suddenly, once again managing to take him aback with her volatility. "This playground. It's the one we used to go to when we were kids, right?"

"I... suppose so," he answered her eloquently, unable to understand why she should bring that particular thing up now. "I mean, we went to so many playgrounds over the years, it's hard to stay on track. Though I guess this one is close enough for us to visit it, from time to time anyway. And it does seem... familiar."

"I'm sure it's the one," she continued relentlessly, her gaze still fixed on some distant spot. Suddenly, she straightened up and pointed with her finger at the direction she'd been looking at. "See that swing over there? They always build those in a way where there are two, so kids can swing together with their friends. But here... There's only one. I don't remember any other playground with a single swing like this one."

Taichi's eyes widened a little in recognition, but also in astonishment at the thought process she had just presented to him.

"You may be onto something, actually," he agreed. "I never even thought of it. I guess it didn't seem important at the time."

"How so? It made us take turns swinging, and we couldn't do our jumping contests properly, and-"

"And half the time you made me rock _you_ , no matter how many swings there actually were. I could bet that the jumping contests you've just mentioned were the only reason why you didn't insist on me doing it all the time."

She opened her mouth to oppose him but closed it almost immediately, short of a proper argument. Taichi smiled good-heartedly, amused with her fierce reaction that seemed so contradictory to her previous behaviour, however, one that was so typical of her in general that he couldn't even bring himself to question it.

"Chitose hated coming with us, you know," Chihaya changed the subject, but again, he didn't protest. "She would always whine about how childish we were and how she was forced to babysit us, even though in reality, she was too young herself to be doing that. It didn't stop her from complaining though... And since I've always looked up to her, I really felt bad about it every time."

"Even though you knew she was exaggerating?"

"I didn't know it _then_. She seemed so much older at the time, and acted as if she really had been. And we surely were a handful when we were ten."

"Speak for yourself," Taichi disagreed humorously. "I was a good boy, who listened to his mother and followed rules all the time. I was the easiest kid to look after in the world."

The playful brag earned him a glare from Chihaya, who then said, "In the fifth grade you dared me to race you all the way from school and then _cheated_ by taking a shortcut I didn't know of. I was so confused when you disappeared that I ran into the nearest lamp post and bumped my head so bad that I thought I'd faint on the spot. I actually had to get stitches afterwards."

"Oh, I remember. I was the one who let your parents know, while you pretended to be fine," Taichi replied. "Funny, how often _that_ happened. Also, I didn't cheat. We never agreed on the route we should take."

This time Chihaya didn't even try to argue her point. Instead, she brought her legs to her chest, grimacing slightly at the stinging she felt after bending her injured knee. Still, she didn't back out, and only made sure that her chin rested on the good one instead. Yet again, Taichi was left wondering as to what she might be thinking of, but chose not to pester her about it. It was one thing to tease her about their childhood adventures and the many messes she'd found herself in – messes he'd sometimes provoked but always made sure to get her out of whenever he'd noticed it was too much for her to deal with; but to bother her with his questions when he still couldn't be sure how much she was willing to tell him...

That was just not the right thing to do.

So he waited, his eyes opened wide and his ears pricked in anticipation for when she would finally decide to speak. He could feel the atmosphere around him thicken and the tension build up; it wasn't long before he felt like after a silence like this the words she said next would be ones that would knock all air out of him, regardless of what subject she decided to touch upon.

You don't take that much time to think of an answer that would bear no meaning to it.

And yet...

"Those were good times, weren't they?"

It was all she cared to say.

And Taichi just stared, because hell, how was _he_ supposed to react? _Yeah, I guess_ , he might have said. _It really was_ , he might have added afterwards. Or perhaps something like, _The time outside was fun, though I sure wish my mother hadn't made me take all those violin lessons and extra classes, or that she at least wouldn't have made such a great deal about it and just let me spend more time with you._

He almost did say all that; but just like in most of the matches he'd played against her, he simply wasn't fast enough.

"Taichi..." he heard her whisper so quietly that he could barely tell it was his own name she was pronouncing. "Is... Is it true? That you've had all those feelings for me for so long?"

So, there they were. The words that knocked him out.

He didn't answer her, staring at her wide-eyed instead, swallowing nervously as he thought of the best way to respond. It was then that she finally turned towards him, even though the lower half of her countenance was still concealed behind her legs. Her big eyes bored into his with expectation for a short while, before she turned away again, slouching even further as she hid her face in her knees.

She shouldn't have asked him that.

No, he berated himself. It's exactly what she should do, what she should have done all those weeks ago when he'd told her that he was in love with her. Back then she'd been too stunned, too terrified to ask about it, to ensure that she'd heard him correctly – now, calmer and with more than a few hours of thinking it over (he was now sure that she _had_ thought of it), she was finally requesting the confirmation of what she suspected.

Of what she feared, perhaps.

"You mean, if I was in love with you when we were in primary school?" he asked placidly. "I don't know. I didn't really think of it in these categories back then. I don't suppose ten- or even twelve-year-old boys do in general. I liked you; I was fond of you. You were important to me."

"That's what you could say about any close friends, though," she muttered under her breath.

"Not like this, I couldn't," Taichi refuted. "I mean, of course: I _liked_ Arata as well. I _was_ fond of him. And in a way, he was important to me, too, though I'm still not sure if it was because of him or simply because you were so determined to stick with him yourself. We both know he wasn't someone I would've chosen for a friend on my own."

He half expected her to cry in protest again, telling him how she had no doubt that he _would have_ , even if it wouldn't have happened as quickly as it had with her help. However, she remained silent; and as uncomfortable as it made him feel, Taichi had no choice but to continue.

"You were special to me, Chihaya, much more so than I was ready to admit," he said. "When we graduated... When we got separated in middle school, I hated it. I almost told my mother that I wouldn't go to the one she chose for me," he added with a small smile, one which only grew when Chihaya turned her head to glance at him instinctively. "Of course, I knew she wouldn't hear of it, so I never even tried. It was a horrible idea to back down like that; I can't tell you how many times I wondered what it would have been like if I _had_ said that to her. Technically, I knew the answer – and still, it wouldn't leave me alone. Probably because it was yet another proof of how much of a coward I really was."

He raised his hand and buried it in his hair, combing the slightly too long locks sheepishly. "You came all this way today to tell me that I'm not a coward and I hope to God that you're right. That... I _have_ managed to fix that about myself, to some extent at least. But the fact remains: I was a coward at that time. All the way to high school and well into it, I had to constantly push myself not to give in, not to choose the easier path."

"But you _never_ did that," she broke in. "I can't remember a time when you would even consider it. If anything, I always felt like you were pushing yourself too hard."

"There's a difference between doing things, though, and doing them courageously," Taichi explained. "Truth is, half the time I was throwing myself into one activity or another because it was the simplest way to run from the problems I didn't want to think about."

"Even in primary school?"

Taichi shook his head.

"No. Back then, I didn't realise any of this. I think I was too full of myself to even consider that – my parents told me I was apt, my teachers confirmed it with their praises and grades. My friends liked me and said that I was cool, and I believed them. You... you were probably the only one who actually challenged me back then, but even you didn't recognise what I hid behind that wall of confidence. I didn't, either."

He paused, thoughtful, and inhaled deeply, taking in as much oxygen as he could in that one go; heavens knew he was going to need it.

He turned a little, and looked Chihaya directly in the eyes before adding,

"And that's when Arata came in."

He saw her eyes widen a little as she eyed him carefully, clearly surprised by the sudden turn in his tale. That reaction took _him_ aback a little in turn – he was sure that even without knowing all the details, she should have felt the connection and therefore expected their childhood friend – his childhood _rival_ – to make an appearance sooner or later in his story. However, he now realised that Chihaya really didn't have a clue; apparently even the admission of his wrongdoings those few weeks back wasn't enough to put her on track.

It looked like he needed to start over and go back to the basics, building her understanding of it from scratch.

Somehow, he didn't mind at all.

"Arata was the one who first called me a coward," he said, his voice steady despite the whirl of emotions that rose in his heart. "After I gave him back his glasses, he said that to me. _You're a coward, Mashima_. No words had ever stung me so much."

"Was it because you'd stolen them?" Chihaya asked, hesitantly. "Because you were afraid of losing to him in that tournament?"

"Those surely were connected, yes," he agreed. "He obviously referred to my stupid theft and the fears behind it. They weren't what had prompted him to say those words, though."

He paused for a second, waiting for Chihaya to chime in again with another question or objection, but none came. He clenched his jaw, realising that he had no other option but to go on without a prompt – to confess once more, risking her anger or (worse) disappointment again.

How many more of those statements was he to do?

"After I'd given him his glasses, I also asked him not to tell you about it," he admitted eventually. "I was so scared of what you might think of me if he did, so sure you would never speak to me again after learning something like this. Not only would you have had every right to do so... but I also knew that you'd have no problem lasting in such a resolve. After all, I had only just tried to shut you out because you'd dared to speak with Arata against my wish, made our entire class do that as well – and you didn't even blink. The natural conclusion on my part was that you didn't care enough to feel hurt or rebel against it... That, if given the choice, you would have chosen Arata without a second thought. And that was _before_ I had acted like a total cheat and jerk."

Both of his hands were in his hair now as he slouched down, resting his elbows on his knees and shutting his eyes, ashamed.

"I know now that it's not what you would've done. You didn't choose Arata because it was _him_ or because you didn't like _me_. I gave you an ultimatum that was as ludicrous as it was cruel; I told you to make a choice between a lonely kid that everyone was picking on already and a group of self-important teenage twits. Even without your kindness, your pride alone would have been enough to determine your decision. The problem was, I didn't know any of that back then.

"When he called me a coward afterwards, it was like a punch in the guts, painful and unexpected, partly because at the time, I had no idea how ruthless he could be. What hurt the most, however... was the fact that he was right. That the hit I'd been given was one I very much deserved. It made me think my own behaviour over and eventually, it also made me realise the reasons behind it as well. And it isn't just that little, pathetic theft I'm talking about."

"What else then?" she asked at last. "Your reaction to Arata? Or that – what did you call it? - ultimatum you gave me?"

"Both," Taichi replied. "Chihaya, back in primary school, you were my best friend, you know that much. I teased you and I tried you, and I bet there were moments you hated me for it – but even then, I couldn't imagine not having you close all the time. It just... felt wrong. Whenever you stayed home sick or left early because of some family issues, I always felt at a loss, though I certainly couldn't point out the reason so clearly as I can now. The point is, when Arata joined our class and you stood up for him, I felt threatened. You weren't even choosing sides then, quite the opposite. But I got scared anyway, and being the idiot I was, I acted on it."

"You were twelve. You can't expect a child like that to always act rationally."

"There's a difference between being irrational and purposely hurting people because of your anxieties. And trust me, I _did_ want to hurt you. Probably more than I cared about upsetting Arata."

His words lingered in the air for a while before he added, "And then I lost to him anyway."

He was sure she would contradict him with another one of her agitated cries, and if not that, that she would at least turn away from him, abashed, embarrassed, guilty. It hadn't been his intention to pick on her or to make her uncomfortable with his final words – in fact, he wanted to take them back as soon as he'd pronounced them. They'd just slipped out, regardless of his will; no matter how much of an accident it was, however, no matter how much he regretted not being able to have stopped himself in time, it was too late to undo his mistake.

He could only hope that she wouldn't take it too much to heart.

However, when he looked at her again, he was met with a steady, teary gaze, her big bright eyes fixed on his face. Her face was no longer pressed to her knees; instead, it was raised again, with an expression of quiet disbelief painted all over it. She wasn't happy, that much he could tell... but she didn't seem annoyed. He couldn't quite tell what it was she was thinking of or what to expect from her next, except now he knew that she wouldn't run away, at least.

"That's not what happened, though," she whispered finally.

Now it was Taichi who wanted to run.

"Is that so?" he asked, his throat tightening all of a sudden. "How is it _not_?"

He knew it wasn't the right thing to say, not if he didn't want to upset her further, which he _didn't_. However, what he also knew was that the only way they would gain something from this conversation was to maintain perfectly, utterly honest, despite the discomfort – or heartbreak – such candour entailed. That meant more than just telling each other the truth, too; but to tell all of it, without holding back or pretending that certain topics were of no interest of them, while in fact they were more than crucial.

It wasn't the right thing to say – but it came from his heart and therefore was the one thing he _should_ have said.

One he had to say.

"You'd chosen him long before you even realised that you needed to," he picked up before she could cut in with her answer. "Look... We spent so much time together these past two years – going to and back from school, practising for tournaments and playing _in_ those, even studying together during our club hours. Sometimes it was just the two of us, sometimes the whole group. We worked, we fought, we had fun. I was having the time of my life, and frankly, more often than not I was ready to admit that it really _were_ the best two years I'd ever had. Only..."

He trailed off and turned away, his hands moving from his hair to his face, now hidden in them. He could feel Chihaya's gaze burning his side but didn't dare to look back at her.

"Only no matter what we did, how engrossed we were in things, be it karuta matches or your birthday celebration, I could always feel Arata's shadow hanging over us," he explained. "On your birthday, he texted me to give you his wishes – but the truth is, he didn't even have to do that. As often as not it was enough to look at your face to see that _something_ was missing – and since I knew how much he'd always meant to you, it wasn't difficult to figure out the rest.

"I know I was being petty, and jealous, and that I had no _right_ to be," he added after a moment. "I let my own dreams take over me, in spite of knowing full well that I'd never really stood a chance against him. Never stood a chance with _you_. But I wanted to hope anyway; and it made me go crazy every time I was reminded of what my situation really was."

He fell silent then, and this time, he was determined not to make any further comments, no matter how many imploring looks Chihaya might give him. Instead, he decided to sit up straight again and raise his head to the sky, inhaling deeply as he waited for her to speak. His eyes remained closed at first; his hands now rested on both sides of his thighs, fingers curled around the edge of his seat but not really grasping it.

He kept this pose for a while, patient; then he opened his eyes and turned towards her again, a small, gentle smile tugging on his lips despite the hint of hurt and disappointment that he couldn't eradicate from his gaze.

That little smile was the best he could do for her.

He never would have thought that this tiny gesture, this most insignificant expression might cause the reaction that it _did_ cause. He realised something was off as soon as their eyes met; and yet, even that hunch wasn't enough to prepare him for what was about to come next.

He saw a blurry gaze and a bitten lip; a trembling chin and eyes that begged for mercy.

He saw distress and guilt, and reproach, a quiet plea that somehow seemed like the loudest crash, ringing in his ears with a thousand decibels of what should have been a perfect silence.

And then...

Then he saw Chihaya burst into the ugliest sob he had ever seen.

And he had seen _a lot_.


	4. Chapter 4

Now, if someone had asked Chihaya why exactly she was crying, she probably would've failed to explain it.

She didn't know, she didn't understand.

She just _cried_.

_"I felt threatened."_

_"You'd chosen him before you even realised you needed to."_

_"I never stood a chance against him. Never stood a chance with_ _**you**_ _."_

The words he'd thrown at her echoed in her mind, bringing with them all the memories she somehow hadn't thought of, clashing with the thoughts she had not _known_ of before. Colours, sounds, expressions – they all came back to her again, and with an intensity that made her feel completely dizzy.

She couldn't tell what it was about those words that had made her break down – could it really have been the words, or rather the way Taichi looked at her afterwards? – and yet, it was the only thing she felt she _could_ do.

What _else_ was left?

"That is _so_ not true!" she exclaimed in between her choking breaths, as she glared at him angrily, refusing to hide her face behind her hands despite her own wish to do so. "Not true at _all_. I know... I _guess_... It may seem like this to you but it's _not_ what it was. Or what it _is_ right now!"

Another tide of emotions took over her, successfully preventing her from adding anything more. She shook vehemently, bawling her eyes out, sniffing and hiccuping, yet at the same time doing her best trying to compose herself again. She hunched over; she rubbed her hands against her cheeks, wiping away the tears that would not stop coming; she bit her lip to stop it from trembling, so hard that she almost made it bleed.

She wanted to _scream_ , to whimper and howl like she had when she was twelve, when they had lost their first Genpei match and she thought of it as nothing short of the end of the world.

She wished she could be that girl again, one who didn't have to watch her actions just because her most important friend was watching _her_.

And so she didn’t, indifferent to her surroundings to the point where she couldn't even feel grateful for the fact that, beside Taichi, there was in fact no one to watch her crumble down. Overcome by her own misery, she ignored the part of her which told her to calm down – the weak, rational thought that after everything she had put Taichi through, she should at least try to regain some of her dignity.

The part of her that said that she had no right to burden him with her own sorrows again, while she knew that the one he carried was so much worse already.

And yet, no matter how very wise that voice inside her was, Chihaya simply couldn't find it in herself to listen to it. She knew she _should have_ listened. She _should have_ put in the effort and tried to pull herself together, to be the grown-up she was expected to be and not a moody child going through another one of her unmotivated tantrums. She had no doubts that, had the roles been reversed, it would have been exactly what Taichi would have done in her place, burying his emotions deep down within his soul so that she would not feel the whole weight of his suffering.

Yes, that was what Taichi would have done.

That was what he always did.

Only, she was the opposite of him.

Yes, that was the truth, as painful and unwelcome as it was. She could not do what he did, hiding her feelings behind a mask of neutrality and kindness, shutting them inside her own battered heart for no one else to see. Her hurt was always in plain sight, displayed openly as soon as it had hit her - her anger always finding a way out through spontaneous cries and unrestrained exclamations. Never the one to hold a grudge or cling onto unpleasant words, she responded quickly, instinctively, as if she'd been taking one of her one-syllable cards and not facing an important interpersonal issue.

A simple-minded airhead, earnest and straightforward, with nothing to excuse her slips but the honesty that was behind them.

Her behaviour wasn't proper; it wasn't what Taichi would have done.

And yet, somehow, she felt that holding herself back would have been even less appropriate, if only because it would've been nothing but an act on her part.

"I can't believe that's what you thought," she allowed herself to speak after a while, while the tears streamed down her face almost as abundantly as before. "Never stood a chance?! I _chose_ Arata?! How could you even come up with something like that?!"

She knew she was being aggressive again, that her own hurt was once again clouding her judgement and pushing her to say the things she might regret later on. It was never her aim to purposely wound Taichi, not when she felt like the blame for the current situation was mostly on her, if only for the fact that she had failed to recognise the many signals he had given her – and yet, right now, she simply had to address the feelings Taichi had voiced.

Even if it meant being an egoistic fool once more.

"I _never_ wanted you to feel that way. I never thought that you _might_ ," she went on, the weary helplessness starting to ring in her tone. "I know it's partly my fault for being an oblivious idiot who never pays attention to what really matters, but heck, Taichi! If that really is how you feel, then I really am the worst friend in human history!”

Her voice cracked at the end of her speech, and she instinctively turned away, embarrassed. Her eyes welled up with tears again, her expression a perfect mixture of wrath and pain, and disappointment, as she looked at the distant gate of the playground, suddenly wishing that she never had to look Taichi directly in the eye again.

She had shouted at him as if she'd wanted to berate him for his accusation while in truth, she was only really mad at herself.

"You speak as if I had somehow decided to care for him more than I cared for you," she picked up quietly, as she shut her eyes tight and dug her fingers into the folds of her skirt. "As if I'd seen him that one day and thought: now, this is the day that I forget my best friend Taichi and focus on the transfer student to whom I'd barely even spoken before."

This time, Taichi managed to get a word in edgeways and protest, "That's not what I had in mind, and you know that."

"You said you'd lost to him. But _why_ , Taichi?" Chihaya went on, as if she hadn't heard his interruption. "Why are you talking about our friendship in terms of competition? He won, you lost – but _how_? And if that really is the case, then where does it put _me_?"

She sniffed inelegantly before raising her arm to wipe away the new set of tears with her sleeve. She still wasn't looking at him; still didn't think she could. She was angry with herself for it, too, for how weak and fearful she had turned out to be in the face of crisis.

Once again she was acting like a coward... and yet, it was nothing but a means to keep her going, a way to save her courage for what truly mattered.

She was well aware that as soon as she looked at him again, the last scraps of determination would fade into nothingness, leaving her alone to deal with the horrible outcome she must have already brought on herself. She _knew_ that she would end up silent, not because of her composure but because she was paralysed with her own growing fears.

It was either look at him or keep speaking.

And she wasn't allowed to stop speaking now.

"I know it might have seemed like I put him on some sort of a pedestal," she forced herself to continue after another painful pause. "Maybe, in a way, that was exactly what I did. Arata was always so far away, always just a trifle beyond my reach - throwing us out after we'd come to visit him, leaving the tournaments before I could really talk to him, and only if he was actually able to come. That's why he was constantly on my mind, because of how little time we were allowed to spend with him. But, Taichi-" she paused again and this time, she also turned around again to face him properly. "Do you really think that I wouldn't have done the same if you were the one who'd gone away?"

The silence that fell after her question was heavy with expectations, just like Chihaya's gaze was filled with it. It wasn't long; mindful of her own resolution, Chihaya could not allow it to last, and yet, the brief rest was not to be avoided. She used it well, staring in her companion's eyes, taking in the reaction he displayed in response to her words, even though the misty veil that covered her own eyes prevented her from discerning his expression with detail.

She needed him to understand that she meant what she had said.

"If you'd been the one to move away to Fukui, or Kyoto, or anywhere else, I _would have_ tried to reach out to you, too," she answered her own question. "If I had met Arata in high school, I would have made him go on that trip to find you, too, and then I'd have forced him to start a club with me, no matter how little he might have thought of school teams at the time. And if _you_ had been the one to text _him_ on my birthday, I would have been just as thrilled as I was when he did. You _know_ that, don't you?"

On a whim, she reached out over their bags and grasped him by the hand. She saw Taichi's eyes widen in surprise, but paid it no mind, too focused on getting her message across - and on receiving the confirmation she was so anxious to hear.

"Please, Taichi. Please tell me that you realise that."

 _Please, don't kill me with your silence. Please, don't make me wait, wondering if I am right or wrong. Please,_ _ **please**_ _don't say that I really was so terrible a friend not to make that plain, obvious truth as plain and obvious to you._

"Please say that you do."

The words echoed in the air, ringing in their ears with all the insistence that Chihaya had poured into it. Already conscious of how far she had gone, aware of the thin border she was already balancing upon, she didn't dare to say anything more, restricting herself to gazing into her friend's eye imploringly, hoping against hope that he would answer her eventually.

Like she had said earlier that day, she was willing to wait for him - whether it was a minute or ten before he replied, a week or a month or a year before he came back into her life again. She would _let him go_ , allowing him to choose the day of his return by himself and on his own terms.

All she needed from him now was a short, sincere answer.

And she was ready to wait for that, too.

* * *

It was Taichi's turn to look away from her.

He didn't want to; after hearing her opinions on courage and cowardice, after the conversation they'd had afterwards, he was no more inclined to succumbing to the latter than he had been before it. Even if she thought that it was a chapter long closed - even if in her eyes, he really was as brave as she had claimed - it still wasn't what he believed, what he could have _afforded_ to believe. In fact, his own opinion was exactly opposite:

For if his years of struggle had taught him one thing, it was that the kind of challenge he had taken upon himself was never truly over. That for those not born as natural heroes, or adventurers, or whatever word might be suitable for that sort, the work was never really done - that there simply wasn't a moment when they might rest and say, _"My quest here is fulfilled."_

That, unless he wished to give in to his old habit of running away, he simply had to stay on guard at all times, strong and vigilant, ready to put up the fight whenever the former weakness threatened to take over him again.

And yet, even knowing all that, he still looked away now.

 _Pathetic_.

Still, given the circumstances, there was precious little else he could do. The look Chihaya gave him was more than just urging; her entire expression was a mix of expectation and longing, of pent-up impatience and restless hope. It was _pleading_ more than it was pushy, shy and anxious rather than commanding or bold, and as such, it could hardly be answered with anything but honesty and truth on his part.

And just like Chihaya had been unable to open up before him completely while looking him directly in the eye, Taichi found it impossible to meet hers and remain candid with his reply.

Well aware of his own defeat but at the same time completely oblivious to the battle the girl had only just ended herself, Taichi was once again led to believe that he had failed – that he still _was_ failing and would continue to do so for a long while still. And yet, even though the sensation itself was all too familiar on its own, there was a new addition to it, as surprising as it was natural, if only considered from the right angle.

And that new feeling was the one of _defiance_.

For after all, could he really have been expected to hold her gaze now, when she had showered him with flattery and assertion he had so yearned to hear from her, and for so long, too? The simple words of affirmation that proved beyond doubt that she really did care for him, that she would have cared regardless of the hazards of life and the turns they might have come upon?

Her realising that she had elevated Arata, put him on a pedestal as she herself had said, all on her own, was surprising enough. But to learn that she would have done the very same thing if _he_ had been the one torn away from her?

That was a revelation he had not expected to experience.

More so than that: even now that he'd heard the words, the idea behind them still seemed too great (and for that, almost surreal) for him to easily accept it, instead making him wonder if he truly had heard correctly. Old habits die hard, after all, and the same most certainly could have been said about Taichi's inclination towards doubting his own worth, especially when compared to one very specific friend of theirs... And as straightforward and honest as Chihaya naturally was, it still didn't mean that her own assumption was right.

In the end, what guarantee there was that she really would have acted the way she claimed, save for her own unwavering conviction of it?

And still, he wanted to believe her, to let his gullibility and faith take over his usual rational scepticism one more time before shutting his weary heart to all dreams for good. Unrestrained, his thoughts wandered towards their first months at Mizusawa and all that happened during that time, from his finding Chihaya spread out on the grass, to her making class A and telling him to start the club with her, to their visit in Fukui and the cold, unexpected rebuff they received from Arata.

The way they had climbed up the karuta ladder, both as individuals and as a team, striving to get better, hoping that their work would pay off eventually – that the promise they had made in their childhood years would be fulfilled, allowing the three of them to be together again.

 _The three of them_.

For the first time ever, Taichi realised that it had never been just Arata Chihaya wanted to see. It wasn't her personal affair, her own romance she wanted to pursue, only dragging him along for the old times' sake. In _her_ mind, the reunion was never meant to be just between Arata and her, but he, Taichi, was always counted in and considered in her plans.

 _The three of_ _**us** _ _._

The old and familiar feeling of guilt came over him again as he pondered over the matter. It had only been a few short moments since Chihaya had asked her question, since she'd demanded him to say that yes, he _was_ aware of her attitude, of how important their friendship was to her; and yet, it was enough for him to go there and back again on this sad journey down their shared memory lane, one that perhaps left him even more baffled than her heated confession itself.

He wanted to slap himself in the face for not comprehending all of it sooner – while at the same time, he still couldn't fully trust in that simple, obvious truth that she had shared with him.

He wanted to believe her; he _didn't_ want to believe her.

Didn't want to fall into the trap of her kindness and candour, and _love_ all over again, when his stupid amorous dreams about her still had not faded yet.

So he retreated into the safety of his own mind again, attempting with all his might to recall all the events that must have proven contradictory to what she was saying. All the times when she _had_ chosen Arata over him, all the instances when it had been clear that she would have rather had the other boy stand by her side, be it the aforementioned birthday or the long phone calls he saw them having more than he wished he had.

He tried desperately to think of all the distant looks and dreamy gazes she'd displayed every time Arata was mentioned. The day she had learnt about Taichi's girlfriend and acted all shocked and disappointed about it, only to think of what Arata might be doing the next second; the afternoon when she'd skipped her study session with Komano to come and cheer for _him_ but then seemed to forget all about her quest as soon as he'd told her that Arata was also participating in the tournament.

The many instances when she'd paused and turned in her dreamlike haze because she'd heard an indication of Arata's closeness, while he was sure that there had never been a case when she'd reacted like that to _him_.

Before, he'd been determined to fight his ridiculous jealousy with all that he'd had in him; now, suddenly, he was summoning it back, doing what he could to awake its burning fires, if only to protect him from stumbling over his feelings again.

He just couldn't let them take over again.

The task seemed easy enough at first, so much that he inevitably came to blame him for choosing the easier path again. Hadn't he been haunted by those foul memories for months, if not years now? Weren't they what had come to his mind whenever he'd as much as fancied the idea of winning Chihaya over, successfully preventing him from speaking his mind openly for so long? Wasn't his inhuman memory a curse known to few, always pushing forward the events and words that harmed him and never the ones that might bring him peace?

It should have been the easiest thing in the world to recall those images now, to let them overshadow the foolish, childlike hope that was starting to blossom in his heart against his endeavour and will.

So why couldn't he think of more than the few he'd already pondered over, instead having his memory overridden by the exact opposite kind? Why couldn't he hold onto those that he _had_ managed to call, but let them dissolve into nothingness and give way to the sweet recollections he would never have been capable of keeping alive for long in any other hour?

He wished to think of indifference and unfairness, of all the little examples that would reaffirm his belief that there really had been no place for him in Chihaya's heart as long as Wataya Arata walked this Earth, and probably long after he stopped. The way she had acted after the Qualifiers, confused but not unhappy after Arata's confession and not terrified and hurt like she was after his.

 _Her birthday_ , he told himself, ignoring the fact that he had already brought that event twice, both quietly and out loud. _Think of her birthday, you fool. She was so happy and you were so close, and then she forgot all about you the moment she saw that message-_

He clung to the memory as if it were his lifeline; but it was too late. As if to contradict all of his theories, all of his doctrines and his principles, his mind was assaulted with the visions of nothing but the signs of Chihaya's tenderness and concern.

He wanted to think of her birthday – he was immediately drawn to his own, together with the crazy tournament she had organised, just to make him smile.

He wished to focus on her leaving him on that bench to search for Arata – and suddenly he couldn't help but think of when she'd deliberately thrown away watching the _final match between Wataya Arata and the Queen_ , because she'd decided that witnessing him make class A was more important to her.

He recalled how, according to Arata’s own words, she had woken up from her faint during their first national tournament to see him next to her for the first time since their visit in Fukui and yet, she still as much as ignored him, ready to dash out of the room to join her team, heedless both of her own condition and the rules of the games.

All because she had promised they would win their matches together.

She really had gone from only wanting to improve in order to meet Arata to genuinely caring about all of their new team, more so perhaps than any other member ever had or would.

Once the dam fell, there really was nothing he might have done about it. All of a sudden, his brain was full of their moments together, good or bad, happy or distressing. How they had worked hard to recruit and teach the new club members, how they had worked on their own skills while tutoring and guiding them. The friendships they had made together and on their own, while the bond between them grew firmer all along.

All the little things she'd done for him without ever being asked to; all the small favours he had done for her just because it seemed the right thing to do at the time.

Their never-ending discussion and banter, and rows. The many times he'd wanted to pull out his hair out of frustration because of Chihaya's carelessness and the times when she must have felt the same about him.

First grade, third grade, fifth.

The warm April day two years ago, when he had found out they were to attend the same school again.

The joys.

The sorrows.

The smiles.

The tears.

The awkward attempts at consolations and horrible pep-talks that had done more harm than good.

The hard work they had put in, the litres of sweat and the energy gathered and burnt.

_The way she was always finding her way to his side, no matter how hard he'd tried to mislead her._

It really was a friendship of a century – was he really ready to throw it all away like this?

No.

No, he wasn't.

Because it had never been about throwing it away, about destroying the precious bond that had held them together, simply because he was no longer able to pretend that friendship was all that he wanted from her. He _had_ endured it: for twenty four months, he had stayed by her side, ready to help and ready to challenge, asking nothing more than the right to keep his place there. And he _had_ been content for a while, and even when the contentment had gone away, he'd stayed anyway, convinced that in the long shot, his struggle would not be for nothing.

That somehow, the pain and discomfort he felt was just a stage, a rough patch that would only make their relationship grow stronger in the end.

Well, it did – and it didn't.

It wasn't so much that he regretted his decisions now; perhaps, if he had spoken sooner or made the signs clearer beforehand, their story would have taken a different course. Still, he was past wondering now: what was done couldn't be undone and besides, there was no telling that if he'd taken a different approach it would have made the outcome any more positive for him than it was now. Knowing his luck, it probably would have turned his fate even sourer.

So no, he did not regret it. There were things he had to do now, however - choices he'd have to make, decisions he now needed to stand by.

It was time he finally focused on his own life and goals, his own future and dreams.

Even if that meant pushing his friendship with Chihaya aside for a while.

He needed to heal – and he needed to do it on his own.

He would be of no use to her until that was done, anyway.

"Taichi? Are you alright?" he heard her ask softly, her voice as distant as if she'd been calling from another place and not from her seat right next to him. On instinct, he raised his head and met her gaze after all. "I'm sorry if that was the wrong thing to ask. I just... I thought it was a simple question. But you know how bad I am at this."

 _Don't apologise_ , he wanted to say. _You've done nothing wrong_ , he wished to add.

 _It's not your fault_ , he should have concluded.

He felt her grasp on him loosen as Chihaya let go of his hand and edged away, abashed. His fingers twitched at the change and he almost reached out to stop her and let her know that the gesture was not at all disagreeable - that, just like her coming to see him earlier on, it was acknowledged and appreciated, precious and desirable, despite the turmoil it had caused him in tandem.

There was so much he wanted to tell her; so much he _should have_ said. If he could have shared his previous thought process with her - had it recorded or written down and given to her in a physical form – he _would have_. His fears and his hopes, his resolutions and his worries. The big matters and the small, those so closely related to their current conflict and those not related at all. He wished to speak of his affection again, but also of the subjects not related to it in the slightest.

He wanted to remark how her fringe gained a red hue in the light of the setting sun, while simultaneously commenting on how horribly tangled it was.

He ached to pull her close against his chest and say that she didn't have to worry, but also to tousle her hair and flick her forehead for putting her foot in her mouth again.

He needed to restrain himself from clapping, if only to see if she would respond with a swing.

He did neither. Instead, he took another deep breath and, leaning against the back of the bench once more, he folded his arms and shifted his gaze to the playground in front of him. The single swing Chihaya had mentioned came into his vision and he fixed his eyes on it, glad to have found an anchor for his wandering stare.

Yes, he wished he was able to tell her more; wished that his nature was shaped differently, making him at least a little more open with his thoughts than he was.

Still, it was not a trait he could overcome off-hand.

Not yet.

"I do realise that," he said simply instead, ignoring her most recent question and deciding to answer the one she'd asked before. "Though I'd like to think that I wouldn't have thrown you out of my house if you two had come to visit."

He glanced sideways at her then and smiled, hoping that this time, it would not end up with another wave of weeping on Chihaya's part. His faith did not prove in vain. Chihaya’s eyes were still glistening with tears of course, as he suspected they would for a while now, no matter how he steered their conversation next. Some of them had escaped from her lashes, too, flowing down her cheeks and falling from her chin, dropping onto her already dampened sleeves.

But she wasn't shaking anymore. There were no hiccups and no sniffing to come with her crying anymore, no glints of anger flashing in her eyes. She had calmed down, as calm as Ayase Chihaya could be, anyway.

And then she laughed.


	5. Chapter 5

It wasn't a big laugh, or a loud one. She didn't burst into it with the usual enthusiasm and force, and the tears that flew down her cheeks when she'd closed her eyes were by no means caused by her cheerfulness. Her laughter was not contagious, the corners of her lips almost not curling up instead of almost reaching her ears as it was usually the case.

She did not open her mouth wide like an idiot, the rim of her teeth barely showing at all.

It was a small laugh, a cautious laugh. A tired, wary chuckle let out by someone just as careful and weary – and yet, still willing to grasp at the fragile threads of happiness and answer accordingly.

"What are you saying?" she asked in a hoarse voice, once again raising her arm to wipe away the seemingly never-ending tears. "That's not the point at all."

Her breath caught for a second, making her trail off at the end. Her ugly sobbing might have stopped and she was no longer wailing; however, that didn't mean that she had regained her composure, and certainly not in full.

She was still feeling out of place, wrong and miserable, wishing for more than she knew she could get at this moment in time. Taichi's reaction to her question had taken a toll on her as well, leaving her far more exhausted than any crazy race to his cram school ever could, the seemingly endless silence feeding her already enormous fears even further.

He sure had taken his sweet time before answering, no doubt falling into another of his internal monologues that he was never going to share with her.

Certainly, he hadn't needed all those minutes to come up with a reply that he'd given her at last.

Never good at reading people in general, she sure knew _him_ long enough to realise that.

For even though his eyes were turned away from her and hers were misty with tears, she had not stopped watching him for a second. The shock that showed on his face when she gripped his hand in hers; the pain that replaced it when she uttered her question and then grew as she urged him with despair to answer it.

The disdain that she knew was not for her but for himself, the disbelief and reluctant hopefulness that came afterwards, though for what reason, she could in no way tell yet.

She’d watched him battle with himself, focused and attentive, intent on catching the slightest change in him. For the most part, she couldn’t see much more than his back and what little she could glimpse of the side of his face, and yet, that only made her resolve grow stronger, as she harnessed all of her senses to help her in that task.

There was no sign too small, no change too insignificant.

She knew he would not tell her the details of his sorrowful soliloquy, and so she made sure she deciphered as much of his thought without him having to do so.

_"Why, Taichi? Why do you do everything alone?"_

No, that part of him surely hadn't changed.

And it would not be fair of her to ask that of him.

Not yet, anyway.

So she didn't ask, instead listening closely to all that he had to tell through his gestures and not through his words. The way his hand trembled when he'd pulled away from her grasp, as if uncertain whether or not he even wanted to – the way in which he slouched in guilt after turning away afterwards. His uneven breath. His twitching fingers. The words he muttered under his breath without realising what he was doing.

_"Pathetic,"_ he mumbled with spite. _"Put on the pedestal,"_ he added with grief. _"There's no guarantee she would have done so", "Honest doesn't equal right,"_ he continued, his words less and less distinct by the syllable, and yet not bumbling enough for Chihaya to mishear them.

_"Can't fall for that again."_

It was clear that it was no longer a monologue, but a heated, resolute discussion he was holding with himself. Chihaya listened closely as more sounds left his barely parted lips, trying to figure out the meaning behind them, while she eyed him carefully in search of the signals that might help her guess the parts he wasn't voicing. Every time she caught an alteration, she felt like she was discovering a new land; every tiny gesture that seemed to reflect his inner thoughts held more value to her than the greatest of human treasures.

Aware of his natural unwillingness to open up to others, she felt blessed to find any substitute, as poor or insignificant it might seem.

The hope.

The doubt.

The longing.

The fear.

The terrible weight of the burden he had taken upon himself and refused to share with anyone, the hardship and pain he still refused to talk about.

The barely noticeable hint that he would still push her away if she'd tried to console him now.

Once she'd begun her observation, it wasn't hard for her to gather where his thoughts had gone. The name of Arata made an appearance a few times, much as it was expected; she heard him speak her own more times that she was ready to accept. She wanted to believe that it was not the only thing he was thinking of, that there was still room in his heart and mind for memories more pleasant, or at least, less ambiguous, than those.

She breathed a sigh of relief upon picking up the name of Mizusawa.

She stiffened after hearing of Fukui.

Her own thoughts betrayed her then, and for a short while, she forgot her resolution to ignore all but the acts and words of Taichi. As much as she hated herself for it, she couldn't not think of their other friend. Yes, she hated herself, despised the weakness of her will that would once again fly from the boy by her side to the one that was away, even if this time it was in direct connection to Taichi and their extraordinary talk.

She'd told him that there was no choosing between him and Arata. That if their story had played out differently, she would not have abandoned him, wouldn't have forgotten him any more than she'd forgotten the other. That she would have fought her way through the karuta world and dragged Arata to help her with it, only so that she might see him again at some point.

And she meant it. Every word of it, every exclamation she had thrown at him had come from the very core of her heart, supported by the steadfast belief that it was exactly what she would have done.

She needed him to believe her; she feared so badly that he would not.

And yet, there was nothing more she could have done as of now, except to shift her attention back to him and make sure it didn't drift away again. After all, the time they had was precious, all the more so for how little there was left of it. Every second that passed brought them closer to the end: the end of this conversation, the end of the time they could still share.

Eventually, the moment would come when they would have to say goodbye.

This day, this afternoon, was all that they had.

It was the one thing that Chihaya had no illusions about.

So she watched, and she listened, constantly fighting her desire to hasten him to reply. There was still so much she wanted to tell him, all the more so because she knew he would never ask for any of it himself – and yet, every time she came on the verge of speaking, something seemed to hold her back. Whether it was shame or wisdom, a guardian angel sent to guide her or a newly born consciousness and subtlety that was all her own, no one could tell at this point.

All Chihaya knew as of yet was that no matter how important her explanations might appear, giving Taichi the time to weigh his own opinions was more important still.

* * *

Now back in the present, she still gazed at him softly, only looking away when she was forced to wipe away another one of her rebellious tears. She knew that his eyes were fixed on her as well and that this time, he was not going to shift his gaze, either. Instead, he kept looking, returning the warmth that she had tried so hard to convey, his hesitant smile growing as she scolded him playfully for missing the point of her question.

She sniffed and blew her nose. He grinned and shook his head.

And just like that, it no longer mattered if she had managed to touch upon all the issues that had seemed so crucial to her mere moments ago. And not because the subject had lost its importance, but because she now felt that it simply wasn't the right time. Even if they'd had more of it – if the sky had been painted with orange and gold instead of purple and blue, darkening with every breath that they took – she still would have held back from broaching it.

They were tired; they were lost.

They were weak and vulnerable, already having said more to one another than they had in a month and with sincerity they had not displayed in a lifetime. Adding anything more would have meant making the burden even _heavier_ – and who could tell how much more they were still able to shoulder.

She had almost broken him once; she was not going to risk doing that again.

"Sorry," she heard him say then, right as she was about to voice a thought of her own. She shook her head in turn, but Taichi went on, "No, I am. I know there was a deeper meaning behind your words. My opinion still stands, though. I _am_ better-mannered than he is."

As confused as she was, Chihaya couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at him. "How can you be so sure?"

"Have you met my mother? Just think of what she would do if I _weren't_."

At this she laughed again. Though not one bit louder than before, her laughter had lost some of its wariness, resounding in the air much more sonorously – and when she glanced at Taichi again, she saw that his own smile had reached his eyes this time. Another wave of warmth seemed to engulf her as she realised this, giving – no, _strengthening_ the hope that the message from Arata had rekindled in her.

Ensuring her that her optimism had not been naivety.

Far as they were from their recovery, she at least dared to believe that they truly were on the right track now.

"We should probably head home soon," she heard Taichi speak again, the faintest trace of hesitation echoing in his voice. "It's getting dark, and I still have a lot of work waiting for me at home. I bet that you do, too. Is your knee any better?"

Not even trying to fight the reflex, Chihaya rolled her eyes with exasperation.

"How many times do I need to tell you that it wasn't bad to begin with?" she asked. "It's just a cut. I'm not expecting you to carry me home, you know."

"Bold of you to assume I'd offer it," Taichi parried.

"You've already offered me your help unnecessarily today. Expecting it to change now would be unreasonable, wouldn't it?"

"I guess that depends on how you look at it. I'd say that your ungratefulness is daunting enough to kill any man's good will."

Before she could even think of a proper reply, Taichi stood up from his seat and reached for the bags that lay next to him. After the little exchange they'd just had, Chihaya was sure that he would only take the one belonging to him and let her carry hers on her own; and yet, even now, he still seemed determined to help her in any simple way he could.

And so he now stood, with the two bags hung over his shoulders and a hand extended towards her in order to help her get up. Almost on instinct, Chihaya frowned and rolled her eyes again...

...but she took his hand anyway, holding onto it with much more force that the simple action of rising required.

If Taichi was willing to aid her, she was in no position to argue.

And she didn't want to, either.

"I'll walk you home," he said as he loosened his grasp on her fingers the next moment, as if the sentence could only have been uttered after the physical contact between them had ended. And yet, his tone was not a hesitant one; he wasn't nervous or abashed. There was no rush behind his words, no indication that he'd only said them because he'd felt that he should.

Instead there was calm and confidence, simplicity and sincerity that could not be underestimated on this particular day. Unlike so many times in the past, Chihaya realised that he was saying what he _wanted to say_ and not what he thought was expected of him.

Even if she had wished to part with him sooner, she wouldn't have been able to reject him now.

So she smiled and nodded, before following him obediently towards the playground gate, falling into step with him as soon as she had crossed it. Once again she was tempted to ask him to return her bag to her – and once again, she fought the temptation bravely, aware that arguing her case would lead to the opposite of what she hoped to achieve, which was to unburden her friend.

And so she said nothing.

They walked in silence, both of them too busy with their own thoughts to try and strike another conversation that they most probably wouldn't manage to finish before reaching Chihaya's house; and yet neither could fully refrain from the furtive glances cast at one another whenever they thought the other person wasn't looking. The shallow cautiousness failed them soon, of course. Their eyes met, their breaths hitched. Their cheeks flushed with the faintest shade of pink.

And yet, they did not look away any more. Responding with smiles rather than frowns, they chose to show their joy in the place of unwanted nervousness, determined to make the most of the time they still had left.

They both knew that it wouldn't last, that, come tomorrow, the so undesired feeling of awkwardness would take over them again, to some degree at least. They would pass each other in the corridors and even though they both hoped they'd manage to greet the other more politely, a nod and a smile would be all they might expect; they'd meet at the train station occasionally but fail to exchange more than a few words.

And somehow, it was fine. Because for the first time since Taichi's confession, they could hope that the distance they had built was not that of resentment and sorrow, but of mutual respect and readiness to wait. It was an _agreement_. A mature decision each of them had made, knowing that not only was it the right path to choose, but the best possible one, too.

A choice only available thanks to the shared understanding and trust that allowed them to believe that it was, indeed, only for some time.

All the way, Chihaya itched to reach out for her bag, as she counted steps and seconds until it would be appropriate to ask Taichi to return it to her. Every time the temptation reappeared, she forced herself to wait; to hold on for another moment, praying that her patience would be enough to get her through it. And not because it was particularly important that she maintained her composure at the moment – being as they were now, he probably wouldn't have responded with anything but a playful remark and a definite rebuttal of her request.

It wasn't a big deal.

It didn't require a heroic effort on her part.

And even if she had failed, she knew that it would not have been of much harm, either, not when they both had finally reached their peace.

Still, it _was_ important to her. She knew Taichi was deep in thought and that, even if the interruption she was about to make wasn't going to vex him, it would still be a hindrance, a glitch in the process that was happening in his mind. More than ever, Chihaya wished to be considerate; she'd resolved to be before she'd come to see him and then held onto her choice as they had talked. And yet, it would have lost all of its meaning if she had stopped now.

Focused on her own internal struggle, she failed to pay attention to the distance they covered. Having stayed half a step behind Taichi before, she nearly walked into him when he'd halted before her house and turned around to face her, and then jumped back when she realised how close she was standing.

She was answered with a raised brow and a lopsided grin. She replied with a mumbled apology and a huff on her part.

And yet, that was all that was to be said. Silent they stood, eyeing each other carefully, expectantly, their gazes shifting towards the Ayase household and then back to one another, neither finding the words appropriate for this moment. Suddenly conflicted, Chihaya clenched her fists anxiously, at the same time completely missing the fact that the boy in front of her was no more confident than she was.

It was obvious that neither of them wanted to part...

...and still, they both realised that they needed to.

And that the sooner they did, the lesser was the risk of ruining what they had built.

With a deep breath, Chihaya finally reached out for the bag in his hand, ready to voice her gratitude for his help. She smiled as she indicated the sack, her fingertips brushing against the strap while her mouth parted slightly in order to say-

"Thank you for coming to see me today."

That was definitely _not_ what she was going to say.

She blinked repeatedly, her eyes once again fixed firmly on the amber irises so full of appreciation and zeal as she realised that she'd been, once again, beaten to her own speech. Judging by the amusement that reflected on Taichi's countenance, her surprise was apparent, and so she looked away instinctively, feeling her own face grow hot for no reason whatsoever. She still couldn't help but peek at him, however, and therefore, was able to see that the entertained expression was barely a veil that covered emotions far more meaningful and profound.

She couldn't recall a day in their lives when he had looked at her like this.

"Thank you for letting me stay," she replied simply, knowing that any variation of _"it's nothing"_ would have been shot down by him immediately. "And for offering to talk later. And for staying and listening, and helping me with my cut and my bag and all that."

"It's nothing," he answered and she almost burst out laughing hearing his words.

She managed to swallow it back somehow, however, even despite her effort Taichi still caught the change in her expression and chuckled to himself, upon realising what he'd just done. She used the opportunity to reclaim the bag she'd been grasping.

Taichi let her. Then inhaled deeply, slowly, before adding, "Seriously though, I'm glad that you came. You... you've given me a lot to think about, I guess."

Chihaya's smile grew a little more wistful. "I'm glad, too."

She saw Taichi open his mouth, only to close it a second later, clearly unsure of what to say next – or maybe not _what_ but _if_ to speak at all. Curious, she tilted her head to the side and watched him patiently, awaiting the moment when he'd come to a decision on his own.

What might it have been that he still needed to tell her?

_Anything in the world_ , she answered herself quietly. _After all, there are so many things that I haven't told_ _ **him**_ _, even though I wish I have done. It's only natural that the same would go for him._

The things she hadn't told him.

Just what _were_ those things?

_I quit the club._

_I haven't accepted Arata._

_I can't lose you._

Well, she supposed she hadn't really touched upon the first one. The second she had spoken of, if only partially. And as for the third...

...she could only pray that he would read between the lines and realise that truth by himself.

He was the smartest student in their year for a reason, wasn't he?

"I really should be going," Taichi said at last. Only slightly disappointed, Chihaya nodded in understanding. "I wasn't joking about the work at home."

Chihaya smiled encouragingly. "I thought so. You were supposed to be back hours ago, weren't you?"

"Yes. Though I'd already let my mother know that I'd be delayed."

"So she won't be angry with you?"

"Well, I wouldn't go _that_ far," Taichi responded with a shrug. "But maybe she will be a little more understanding than usual. Still, there's no need to try her patience unnecessarily. I... I guess I'll see you at school?"

Again, she nodded. Taichi returned the gesture and, not waiting for another reply, he turned on his heel and set off towards his own house, his hands finding their way to his pockets as he walked farther and farther away from her. Chihaya watched him in silence for a few moments, glad to see the spring that seemed to have returned to his step.

And then, before she could think better of it, she cried his name loud enough for the entire neighbourhood to hear.

"Thank your mum from me, will you?" she called out again when she saw that she'd got his attention. "She will understand!"

Even in the distance, she could easily discern the astonishment that reflected not only on his face but in all of his features. She was also happy to see that the expression was quickly replaced by another chuckle of his, and grinned brightly at the sight, her heart swelling at the thought of where their conversation had brought them.

It was a long way that was before them, she had no doubt about that.

But that evening, that second, she realised that however difficult, it would still bring them to a happiness neither of them could now think of, perhaps in the form neither of them expected.

And she had no doubt about that, either.

  
  
  



End file.
